Carrying the insurgent banner of the ever-unorthodox label Skin Graft — responsible for records by bands like U.S. Maple, Melt Banana, and Arab On Radar — into the second quarter of this century, this Berlin trio brings the uproar of their self-titled debut album to the perfectly suited landscape of Barreiro. Spiritual comrades of Guttersnipe — with whom they released a split and shared stages far and wide — Cuntroaches embrace a similar ferocity in the way they attack rock’s foundational elements, only to trip them up and thus reanimate them in the dizzying thrill of their collapse. In an all-out physical and sensory assault, the band’s music conjures a whirlwind where the abandonment of Hardcore, the wreckage of No Wave, and the demonic fury of Black Metal are summoned amidst feedback, in-the-red distortion, untamed rhythms, and a vocal delivery drenched in effects. Pretty much what one might expect from a band named CUNTROACHES.