Dolor Goggler by Destructors: A Punk Rock Hangover You’ll Actually Enjoy
If you’re into music that feels like a chaotic house party where someone might spill beer on your shoes (but hey, at least it’s fun), then Dolor Goggler by Destructors is your jam. Released in 2014 under Rowdy Farrago, this UK-born punk rock beast doesn’t just dip its toes into chaos—it cannonballs right into the deep end. With Rob Baylis smashing the drums like he has something to prove, the album rips through tracks with raw energy and a gloriously messy attitude.
Let’s talk about two tracks that stuck with me like last night’s questionable decisions: “Who the Fuck Is John Barleycorn?” and “Punk Rock Piss Up.”
First off, “Who the Fuck Is John Barleycorn?”—a track so aggressively catchy it feels like getting sucker-punched by a melody. It’s got this relentless drive, like the band decided to take all their pent-up frustration and channel it into three minutes of pure catharsis. The vocals are snarly, the guitars sound like they were recorded in a garage during a power outage, and honestly? That’s what makes it awesome. This song isn’t trying to win awards; it’s here to remind you life’s too short not to scream along to nonsense lyrics while headbanging like nobody’s watching.
Then there’s “Punk Rock Piss Up,” which is basically an anthem for anyone who’s ever woken up wondering how they ended up face-down on someone else’s couch. It’s fast, sloppy, and unapologetically wild—the kind of tune that makes you wanna grab a drink (or five) and join the mosh pit. There’s no pretense here, just straight-up rebellion wrapped in feedback and bad decisions. By the time the chorus hits, you’ll be chanting along even if you don’t know the words.
Now, I gotta say, this album repeats some tracks (cough “Pigeon Pizza Surprise” cough) more than once, but somehow it works. Maybe because when you’re dealing with punk rock, perfection isn’t really the goal. And let’s be real, after listening to Dolor Goggler, you won’t care either. This record isn’t about polish—it’s about passion, pissheads, and pizza surprises.
So yeah, wrap this thing up with a bow and call it what it is: a love letter to drinking songs, punk vibes, and general mayhem. Listening to Dolor Goggler feels like being invited to a rowdy pub crawl where everyone knows the words to every song—even though half of them don’t make sense.
Final thought? If aliens ever invade Earth and ask us to explain human culture, we should blast them this album. Either they’ll get it, or they’ll leave us alone forever. Win-win.
