Superbutt’s "Music For Animals" – A Wild Ride Through Chaos and Riffs
Alright, buckle up, because Superbutt’s Music For Animals is not your grandma's Sunday afternoon playlist. This 2011 beast of an album slams together Alternative Rock, Thrash, Heavy Metal, Hard Rock, and Nu Metal like a pissed-off blender. It’s raw, in-your-face, and unapologetically loud—exactly what you’d expect from a band straddling Hungary, the UK, and Germany. EDGE Records and Sonic Attack Records didn’t mess around when they backed this chaos machine.
Now, let’s get into it. The tracklist reads like a mixtape made by someone who can’t decide if they’re angry at the world or just really love riffs. Tracks like “Out of Reach” and “The Murder of Socrates” are burned into my brain for all the right reasons.
“Out of Reach” hits hard with its groovy yet menacing intro—it grabs you by the throat and doesn’t let go. The vocals have that raspy, almost desperate edge, like the singer’s got something to prove. And damn, does he ever. The guitars churn out riffs so thick you could build a house on ‘em. You feel every note, every beat, every growl. By the time the chorus kicks in, you're either headbanging or questioning your life choices. Either way, mission accomplished.
Then there’s “The Murder of Socrates,” which sounds like philosophy class if Plato had been fronting a metal band. This one sticks because it’s relentless—a freight train of distortion and fury that refuses to slow down. The breakdowns hit like a sledgehammer, leaving zero room for chill moments. Lyrically, it’s as cryptic as hell, but who cares? When the music punches this hard, words become secondary. It’s less about thinking and more about surviving the sonic assault.
But here’s the kicker: Music For Animals isn’t perfect. Some songs blur together after multiple listens, and yeah, there are tracks where the production feels a bit too cramped. But honestly? That rough-around-the-edges vibe works. It makes the whole thing feel alive, unpredictable, like these guys were making music purely for themselves without giving a crap about trends.
And hey, how many albums throw Hungarian lyrics (“Pont középre,” anyone?) into the mix alongside English ones? Not enough, I say. It adds a wild card element that keeps things interesting. Plus, bonus points for naming two versions of the same song differently—“The Devil You Run With” vs. “The Devil You Run With.” Subtle? Nope. Memorable? Hell yes.
So, would I recommend Music For Animals? If you dig aggressive, no-bullshit rock with a side of existential dread, absolutely. But don’t come crying to me when your neighbors start complaining about the noise.
Final thought: Listening to this album feels like being chased by a pack of rabid wolves while fireworks explode overhead. Chaotic? Sure. Terrifying? Maybe. Addictive as hell? Definitely. Now go crank it up—and maybe invest in some earplugs while you're at it.
