Scraper‘s second LP, Misery is an exercise in simplistic, tightly controlled negativity that crushes the fine line between panic and frenzy into oblivion. A rapid attack of artillery-mimicking snare and bass heavy hunch is the canon, wrought in a Bay Area sewer and revelling in a verminous infestation of post-punk pulse: think Wire versus The Spits in a Shaolin death trap. Scraper administers a deliberate slug to the gut, never fucking around with pretty boy gimmicks and pretense; Misery is the rabid battle cry.