In their evocations of sheer overload, these tracks are in line with Swanson's recent live sets, where everything was crushed together into an unbroken wall of pulsating rhythmic noise. The title track lumbers around like a demented cousin of something The Bug would make—its warping bass tears through its surroundings as casually as a wrecking ball through a brick wall. It's coarse, ugly and utterly thrilling, as is the ultra-distorted "C.O.P."
As with any noise music where volume and intensity are forced to a level well beyond the body's capacity to cope, it's not long before Punk Authority ceases to feel abrasive and is instead perceived as soothing, continuous streams of sound. This full-body immersion effect is thoroughly invigorating rather than oppressive, and frequently far more moving than you might expect. The soft brass chorus that courses through "Life Ends At 30" is as lovely and melancholic as the slurred fanfares of a Philip Jeck record, despite the harshness of its surroundings.