Album Review: Big Gulp – We Came To Play
Alright, buckle up because we’re diving into We Came To Play, the 1991 hardcore rock banger from Big Gulp. Released under NoHelp Records and Vandal Children Records, this album is like that one wild friend who shows up uninvited but ends up being the life of the party. It’s raw, loud, and doesn’t care if you spill your drink while headbanging.
Let’s talk tracks real quick. The title track, “We Came To Play,” kicks things off with a punch to the gut (in a good way). Chris’s vocals are all over the place—like he’s screaming directly into your soul—and Paul’s guitar riffs sound like they were born in a garage during a heatwave. This song grabs you by the collar and says, “Hey, listen up!” You can’t help but remember it because it’s got that chaotic energy that makes you wanna smash stuff—but, y’know, responsibly.
Then there’s “Fear Of Your Mother’s Big Chicken Skeleton.” Yeah, I know, what even is that title? It’s as ridiculous as it sounds, but here’s the thing—it works. Between Spike’s pounding percussion and Micke’s basslines thumping like a heartbeat on steroids, this track feels like a fever dream you don’t want to wake up from. Plus, how could you forget lyrics about…uh…chickens? Weirdly genius.
The production isn’t super polished, which honestly fits the vibe perfectly. Howard Jeffrey handled engineering duties, and Rob Cavalier mastered it, so props to them for letting the grit shine through. And shoutout to Kevin Vallez for the artwork—because nothing screams ‘90s hardcore quite like chaotic design paired with bold typography.
What sticks with me about We Came To Play is how unapologetically itself it is. There’s no pretending to be something it’s not—it’s just straight-up, in-your-face rock. Listening to it feels like finding an old mixtape in the back of your car and realizing it’s still gold after all these years.
Final thought? If you’re looking for perfection, keep walking. But if you’re down for some high-energy chaos that’ll make your neighbors hate you, crank this bad boy up. Oh, and maybe invite your mom to listen too—just don’t tell her about the chicken skeleton.
