Album Review: What Is Your Hardcore by System Fucker DClone
Alright, buckle up because this one’s a wild ride. What Is Your Hardcore by System Fucker DClone is not your average rock album—it's more like an audio assault wrapped in grit and chaos. Released back in 2011 via Black Konflik Records (shoutout to Malaysia for keeping it raw), this record dives headfirst into hardcore, noise, and punk vibes with zero chill. And honestly? It’s kinda beautiful.
Let me break it down for ya. The album kicks off with “Now!”—and holy crap, does it slap. Like, you’re just sitting there minding your own business, and BAM, the opening riff punches you right in the gut. It’s fast, relentless, and feels like someone lit a fire under the band’s collective ass. You can tell they weren’t trying to impress anyone; they were just out here making music that screams louder than their demons. That energy sticks with you long after the track ends.
Then there’s “I Don’t Wanna Become Weekend Punk!”—which, first of all, what a title, right? This song hits different because it’s got this pissed-off vibe but also feels oddly relatable. Like, who hasn’t felt trapped between pretending to care and actually giving a damn? The vocals are raw as hell, almost like the singer’s throat was on strike halfway through recording. But instead of being annoying, it adds this layer of authenticity that makes you wanna scream along. Plus, the breakdown near the end? Chef’s kiss. Pure chaos fuel.
The rest of the tracks follow suit—tracks like “Be Lialized” and 騙されるな keep the momentum going strong without overstaying their welcome. And props to whoever handled the lacquer cut (shoutout to KM)—the production has this lo-fi edge that fits perfectly with the whole aesthetic. It’s messy, loud, and unapologetically real.
Here’s the thing about What Is Your Hardcore: it doesn’t try to be anything it’s not. There’s no glossy sheen or overproduced nonsense here. Just straight-up hardcore punk from a bunch of dudes who probably don’t give two hoots about mainstream appeal. And honestly? That’s refreshing as hell. In a world full of cookie-cutter playlists, albums like this remind you why music matters—it’s supposed to feel alive, even if it leaves a few scars along the way.
Random thought: I wonder if the band ever gets tired of people mispronouncing their name. Or maybe that’s the point—to confuse the crap out of everyone while blowing their eardrums out. Either way, respect.
If you’re into stuff that’s rough around the edges and packs enough punch to wake up your dead pet goldfish, check this out. Just don’t blame me if your neighbors start complaining.
