Review: Sex Prisoner – Cautionary Tale
A lesson in power (and violence, I suppose)
I recently had a discussion with some friends who are far more tuned into powerviolence as a genre than I am, coming away from said conversation with the word that PV stocks are currently through the roof. Or, at the very least, something about this most frenzied of styles seems to be drawing in more young dorks, geeks, and punks in the big ’26. Either way, I’ve noticed an uptick in local PV acts, as well as a general impression that more and more people (such as my dumb ass) are able to pick up on the differences between this scene and grindcore (its like jazz, if you have to ask…). It’s encouraging to see continuous activity in a genre that’s always seemed interesting from an outsider perspective—especially when that activity isn’t coming from bullshitters like Magrudergrind.
A huge moment for PV was this year’s Maryland Deathfest (which you can read my coverage of here and here), where Sex Prisoner had joined the lineup and brought their immense power to the Soundstage venue. This set was vitalized, sounded huge, and inspired one of the most exhilarating crowd experiences of the whole weekend. This is hardly surprising to fans of Sex Prisoner, as records like the self-titled release and especially Tannhauser Gate show a group whose brand of frantic noise pollution, borrowing from beatdown hardcore and Bay Area punk, is capable of reducing mountains to rubble (and local venues into Super Nintendo beat-’em-ups) with ease. Yet, it had been almost a decade since the group was active in the studio, only active again live since 2022 (from what I could gather); where had this unfortunately-named group of violence dealers gone when this most pissed-off of worlds needed them most?
Maybe seeing Sex Prisoner play such a momentous set (I’ll remind you that Pig Destroyer called anyone who missed SP “posers”) at one of the biggest extreme music festivals in the country should have tipped me off to something big on the horizon, but I’m not exactly the most observant of music nerds. Regardless, the Arizona natives announced Cautionary Tale not too long before release, with most of the promotion being left to fans’ word-of-mouth-and-keyboard.
Cautionary Tale picks up as if it were the direct sequel to Tannhauser, levying dynamically-paced, blisteringly-hot punk with a veracity and tenacious spirit that stands toe to toe with any loud rock band bashing out power chords and blast beats. Sex Prisoner’s mastering of rhythmic changes and abrupt shifts (the kind of which make powerviolence what it is) allows them to move as one efficient unit, leading to a band dynamic that I’d call graceful if not for how weighty and destructive it sounds in practice. The title track, “Glass Worms,” and “Alone At Last” show the fruits of developing a sound somewhere between the grit of sludge metal and/or noise rock, the groove of beatdown, and the ferocity of hardcore punk. Each instrument plays into this sound to create something immediate and unignorable. Just listen to that massive, nasty bass tone and how it and the noisy guitar play off each other and the pounding percussion and burly shouts of anger. Sex Prisoner carry that torch of PV with an iron grip in practice, creating a record that fulfills the promises of albums like Cheerleaders for Imperialism and Sweatin’ to the Oldies.
Like much of powerviolence’s storied releases of yore from bands like Infest, SPAZZ, Hellnation, and Yacøpsæ, Cautionary Tale makes the most of a notably short run time (just under 20 minutes) and, as such, is incredibly easy to revisit. While those relistens may not reveal some new nuances to the performance, they will allow you to once again become enveloped into the fiery rage at the heart of Sex Prisoner; feeling it just as strongly as your first listen. You can maybe try to directly compare it to the previous works with a fine-tooth comb to see which is technically faster and technically heavier, but that technically makes you a stupid fucking scrub, frankly. If you can hear the the gut-wrenching drop on “The Last Things” or the nasty grooves at the beginning of “Half Of Me” and not feel the wrath and viciousness that the band deals in, I think you’re long overdue for a lifetime membership at Weenie Hut Juniors. As far as I’m concerned, this is another masterful execution of PV from one of the most effortlessly powerful groups to ever take on this breakneck style (at least to this poser).
4.5/5 Flaming Toilets ov Hell
Cautionary Tale is out now via To Live A Lie Records.
