Split Cass EP by Final Exit Sadistic Lingam Cult: A Noise-Grindcore Mind Melt from 1995 Japan
Alright, buckle up because this one’s wild. Split Cass EP by Final Exit Sadistic Lingam Cult isn’t just an album—it’s a chaotic punch in the gut that makes you question your life choices while also kinda sorta enjoying it. Released back in ‘95 on Y Records outta Japan, this thing is like stumbling into some underground warehouse party where everyone’s screaming about semen and chaos but somehow pulling it off with style.
First off, let me say—the lineup for this madness reads like a fever dream. You’ve got Ryohei smashing drums on Side A, Takahisa shredding guitar riffs so raw they feel illegal, and Taro spitting vocals that sound like he gargled glass before hitting record. And then there's Bizarremen Naughty taking over Side B with ten tracks of pure WTF energy. It’s all noise rock meets grindcore insanity, dripping with sleaze and cultish vibes. Like... imagine if Nine Inch Nails had a baby with Napalm Death, raised it on hentai, and gave it free rein to go nuts. That’s this album.
Now, two tracks really stuck with me after spinning this beast. First up: "Teachings Of Cum." Yeah, I know, the title alone sounds like something you’d find scrawled on a bathroom wall at 3 AM. But damn, does it deliver. The track starts off slow—almost too slow, lulling you into thinking it might be chill. WRONG. About thirty seconds in, everything explodes into this brutal mess of distorted screams, relentless blast beats, and guitars that sound like they’re being tortured. By the end, my ears were ringing, and honestly? I loved every second of it. It’s gross, unhinged, and oddly captivating, like watching a car crash in slow motion.
Then there’s "Sex, Murder, Cult (Included Dogmas Of Cum Supreme Truth)", which is basically what happens when someone tries to make sense of their darkest thoughts through music. This track hits hard right outta the gate, layering industrial clangs under Taro’s demonic howls. There’s this moment around the halfway point where everything drops out except for this eerie drone—that silence feels heavier than the noise itself. Then BAM, it slams back in harder than ever. It’s not fun listening per se, but it’s unforgettable. Like reading a horror novel written by someone who actually believes in the stuff they’re describing.
What gets me most about Split Cass EP is how unapologetically weird it is. These guys didn’t care if anyone liked it—they just wanted to vomit their twisted vision onto tape and call it art. And honestly? Respect. Sure, it’s messy as hell, but that’s kinda the charm. Listening to this feels like peeking inside someone else’s fever dream, equal parts disturbing and fascinating.
So yeah, here’s the kicker—after blasting this album, I couldn’t help but wonder: What kind of world do we live in where something like Split Cass EP exists? And more importantly, why do I keep coming back to it? Maybe it’s the rebellion against normalcy. Or maybe I’m just a sucker for anything labeled “Sadistic Lingam Cult.” Either way, this album’s a trip worth taking—even if you need a shower afterward.
