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We decided as well to include in the package pics, gig flyers and even extracts from lyrics. Giving a new incredible shine to the original sound. Since the early start we worked with the two original sound engineers (from West Link Recorders) who had toured and shared all with the band, this “refreshing” of master tapes This release finally fills a gap: their sold out records had never been reprinted so far, thus reaching crazy prices among collectors, while even lame bootleg copies had started to jump out of nowhere. Itching for some fucking killing and blood is my Benadryl Thats when we ride on. Their existence, corresponding with the most prolific HC momentum, ends up in 1987 and their two EPs, the split tape, the LP and the few other scattered songs are by far sufficient to single them out as a standing point and a reference for anyone interested in untamed music. I murder mother fuckers, I massacre for the thrill Itching for some fucking killing and blood is my Benadryl Chorus: Thats when we ride on bitches. I murder mother fuckers, I massacre for the thrill. That’s where set its pace one of those cult HC-bands destined to leave an unhealed scar in the still-yet-to-come international musical landscape: furious lyrics full-throated by an out of control voice, a fast as lighting abrasive guitar with no place for any melodies but still abruptly original, along with a drumming ready to massacre ears… CCM (a.k.a.