Yep. Thats pretty much FATANGRYMAN, the Auckland no-wave fuck ups that struggle to stay in time, to sound anything other than a discordant swamp of a mess, and come out the other side smelling like (albeit sweaty and bloodstained) roses. These girls (and guy...) have some connections to other Kiwi exports Die! Die! Die! and The Mint Chicks - and although it can be argued that those bands can play their instruments and have more to say, FATANGRYMAN throw distortion into a fan and watch the results flayed across a grungy mattress. And then there's 'Wrapped In Plastic', a track that hints at a squirming, menacing disquiet behind the mayhem... Its infused with an enthusiasm that informs the miasmic mess that the band offers, and the contrasting effects of anger and fun that oozes from the speakers is enough of a hook to give them some 90s props.