Traças E Ferrugem: A Hardcore Punch to the Gut
If you’re looking for something raw, pissed-off, and unapologetically in-your-face, Traças E Ferrugem by the Brazilian hardcore band of the same name is your ticket. Released back in 2016 under Not On Label (because who needs labels when you’ve got rage?), this album hits like a steel-toed boot to the chest. It’s not polished or shiny—it’s ugly, loud, and brutally honest. And that’s exactly why it works.
Let’s talk tracks, because some of these cuts are unforgettable. First up, “Morte E Foda-se”—a song that feels like getting sucker-punched in an alley but loving every second of it. The vocals sound like they were ripped straight out of someone’s throat while they screamed at the void. The riffs? Relentless. This track sticks with me because it doesn’t hold back—it’s chaos distilled into three minutes of pure aggression. When life gets too much, this one’s my go-to anthem for flipping off the world.
Then there’s “Anarquia Verbal,” which slams harder than a mosh pit on steroids. The lyrics spit venom at societal hypocrisy, and damn if it doesn’t feel good to scream along with lines that call bullshit on everything around us. The breakdowns hit like a freight train, leaving you no choice but to bang your head until your neck hurts. You can tell these guys aren’t just making noise—they’re channeling real frustration, real anger. It’s messy, but so is life.
The rest of the album keeps the momentum going strong. Tracks like “Herança De Guerra” and “Hipocrisia” keep the punches coming, never letting you catch your breath. Even “Submundo” drags you through its grimy underworld without apology. It’s clear these dudes weren’t trying to impress critics or climb charts—they made this for themselves and anyone else who needs a soundtrack for their darkest days.
What makes Traças E Ferrugem stand out isn’t perfection; it’s passion. They didn’t overthink it, didn’t smooth out the rough edges. Instead, they let the music bleed all over the place, creating something that feels alive even as it screams about death and decay. Hardcore fans will eat this up, but fair warning: if you’re squeamish or prefer your rock with a side of polish, this ain’t for you.
Here’s the kicker though—if you listen closely, past all the fury and feedback, there’s something almost hopeful buried in the mess. Maybe it’s the idea that even in destruction, there’s power. Or maybe I’m just reading too much into it after smashing my skull against the wall for 30 minutes. Either way, Traças E Ferrugem leaves a mark—and isn’t that what great music should do?
