It’s rare nowadays to get something across your desk that feels genuinely dangerous, snarling with such vitriol and glowering menace that one can only reflexively flinch. Crime As Theatre, the EP debut by Armagideon Time, is one such moment in recent memory for me. It starts with the cover: lynched klansmen bloom as ghostly smears across a tintless tree. It’s a stark reversal of the horrific lynching postcards that permeated the national consciousness of America up and into the 1960s. The numerousness of its targets just indicates the bloodthirst the band has waiting for the listener. There’s always the moment before the needle hits, in that limbo between the experience of the visual offered by the cover and the auditory of the noise, where expectations spike and jitter. What kind of ride ...