You don't hunt Radroachhc. You feel it first, as a subsonic pressure in your molars. It is the sound of a trash can lid being dragged down a flight of metal stairs, slowed to 33 RPM, then sped back up to 45.
Why does this exist? Because hardcore punk has always been about the unbeatable resilience of the ugly, the small, and the angry. A radroach can survive 15,000 rads, live for a month without its head, and breathe through its ass. That is the purest distillation of the DIY ethos ever written into flesh. radroachhc
Radroachhc rejects the false comfort of Vault-Tec’s sterile futurism. It rejects the BOS’s fascist order. It rejects the NCR’s bureaucratic stagnation. Radroachhc believes only in the next riff, the next stomp, the next glorious, festering pile of irradiated trash from which a new song will crawl. You don't hunt Radroachhc
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