Norwegians Deathcrush return with a rebuilt boy band hit.
For a long time there has been a lot of talk about the meaning and nonsense of the most signature Backstreet Boys’ song. Deathcrush’s version is an ominous and hopeless rethinking, like a click that once changed the state of our flowery ancestors under LSD, who decided to indulge in goddamn vinyl with creepy satanic reverse messages, and as a result everything turned into a terrible massacre. Witch’s raw noise intoxication, oppressive metallic percussion, Linn Nystadnes’ monotonous tunes. Everything sounds like something eerie that breaks the mind, and it happens in the basement of a house, standing in the depths of the dark thicket. It's not just a bizarre cover of a pop song, it's an audio cell full of dismal and unbearable paranoia.
