by Goreshack

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"Surf.Mosh.Kill." is the debut full length from Fresno, CA Surf Metal band Goreshack. The album was recorded by Adam Campbell of Awkward Studios and mixed by Ryan Butler at Arcane Digital Recordings. Artist Gabriel Gagne was recruited to design the artwork for the release. The album will see releases on several formats including CD, cassette and vinyl.


released March 2, 2013



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Goreshack Fresno, California

Goreshack is a surf inspired Death Metal band hailing from the trashy beaches of Wormwood Beach.

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Track Name: Goreshack
Down in the caves at the end of the surf
The Weredude slobbered and gave radical birth
Goreshack was born: despoiled, despotic
The new kings of gore and all that's necrotic

Every June 21st it appears on the beach
The shack made of flesh, where blood always seeps
They say that the five come and go as they please
Dragging hipsters to the shore as they prepare to feed

Playing a righteous blend of chronic Surf Death
They raped all the shore with their stinky fuckin' breath
They plotted the death of all the hipsters who whined
"Sweater Metal only man, no more Goregrind!"

Every summer night when the Goreshack sleeps
They giggle under the spell of a unified dream
They grind bitches into meat and cheer when they scream
watch zombie movies all night and pause on the titty scenes
Hanging with Terrorizer, barbecue in the back
The dudes from Repulsion munch on fresh zombie snacks
This isn't a dream, as a matter of fact
We sleepwalk and snore while we hack

We are the Goreshack ghouls and we slaughter fools
We'll cut you right open while we chug on our brews
We blast and we shred until you weep and you cry
Moshing and rocking is what we do while you die

Intestines on hooks, bones litter the ground
Megadeth blares and drowns the screams out
You better fuckin' rage, now that Goreshack is here
So put on some Carcass, and grab yourself a beer

Our brutal boards and bright blue shorts will make you fucking scream
Because once we're done and we've had our fun you'll be dying just to leave

But if you're not a douche bag, you have nothing to fear.
Grab a chunk of zombie flesh to munch on with your beer.
Yeah we slash up assholes, but if you're thrashing you're the shit
grab the shoulders of your friends and jump into our pit!

every summer night when the Goreshack shakes
Some posers got hacked, but those are the breaks
Of course they were eaten and beers got chugged
And some newly undead ladies pulled out their jugs
That's when we all cheered and shit got raw
Then the Sheriff showed up, but that bitch is paid off
He just stood motionless, frozen in dread
He knows if he did shit, we'd saw off his head

We are the Goreshack ghouls and we slaughter fools
We'll cut you right open while we chug on our brews
We blast and we shred until you weep and you cry
Moshing and rocking is what we do while you die

It's useless to run once you've heard that crazy laugh
"You can bet your fucking ass, we'll slice you right in half!"
The posers had died out, and now all that remained
Were stank-ass werezombies who thrashed and ate brains!
Track Name: Big Tits & Zombie Flicks
I don't like all that romantic bullshit
Indie film tear-jerkers are something I can't dig
But I love shock horror, the freaks that stalk the night
The masterwork of Romero, spraying jugulars and heads that fly

We like big tits!
And zombie flicks!
we like big tits!
and zombie flicks!

We don't like prissy twats, that think they're all the shit
They thumb their cunty noses, at everything I dig.
But we love big jugs, so if you have them hold them up
Holy shit I feel sick, I think my cock threw up.

We like big tits!
And zombie flicks!
We like big tits!
And zombie flicks!

Something awesome happened, while watching Dawn of the Dead
The door began to shake, the floor began to groove
That's when the door burst from its seams
There she stood, our undead queen
That's when we all fell to our knees
In worship of her triple D's
Track Name: Welcome to the Shredmill
Razorblades and spinning saws, a monument to shred
The only way you're getting out, is if you're fucking dead
Dismemberment's our pleasure, we're not very discrete
The only thing we deal, are slabs of human meat

Welcome to the shredmill, run for your lives
We've got thousands of chainsaws, hooks, and butcher knives
But gettin' cut up's not the only way to go
You might slip in some blood and bust open your skull

What drives this vast expansiveness, of blood and filth and gore?
A blood-soaked death emporium, armed from door to door
His name is Doctor Chainsaw, Shredman, Hubert P.
He went to Shredford U. A PHD in butchery

The screams of the dead ring out through the night
They cower in fear at our menacing sight
We laugh and we say that it's all in fun
Then slash out their legs when they try to run
They're lured with tales of a funhouse with games
that plays hipster music and has hipster dames
Of course thats all bullshit and pretty insane
They're just chopped up as food for our zombie brigade

Now comes a tale of a shredmaster duel
A battle of shred kings to see who would rule
Dr. Chainsaw challenged Yngwie Malmsteen
He'd heard he was so good, he'd shred in his sleep
Yngwie pulled out his "axe", he posed like a creep
He jerked off the fretboard and played wanky sweeps
Chainsaw laughed hard, he'd made a mistake
So he gutted the fucker and removed his face
Track Name: Surfing Through the Eyes of the Dead
Gather 'round all you boils and ghouls
For a camp fire story that'll make you drool
I'm not the Crypt Keeper, I'm just creep
But I'll tell you 'bout the Witchdoctor of Wormwood Beach

He's wheelchair bound and he has no legs
He doesn't hang at the mall, he lives in a cave
He gnaws on rats and crabs and the occasional bat
His rotten dreads dangle down to the crack of his ass

Came from a tribe that ran rum and guns
Exiled for blasting on the bone carved drums
Shrunken heads and fetishes hang from his sleeves
What's his name you ask? His name is Steve!

The cave was one at the end of the beach
Near the one where Goreshack came into being
He watched all day as the zombies moshed and banged
Some new kind of action is what Steve craved

He gathered up a cauldron and a few supplies
This type of magic takes a special sacrifice
Bats assholes and some tan rats hides
Hipster bones, washed in fresh with the tide

Then he got crazy, and shit in the vat
And topped it all off with some fresh ear wax
He stirred the concotion with an extra long pole
Creating a potion meant for mind control

He drank the brew and his eyes lit up
Had he made a mistake? Oh Holy Fuck
a haze took over, he was in another brain
As a zombie he dug his way up out of the sand

Now what would Steve do with his new legs and feet?
Dance or run or jog in place or stroll on down the beach?
only one thing on his mind, he didn't give a shit
He'd surf all day and night and sleaze on skanky bitches

He grabbed a board and started to thrash
The biggest of waves, he hacked and he slashed
A shark tried to eat him, he didn't give a fuck
He hexed that piece of shit into a retarded duck

We just couldn't believe
What we were seeing

We heard a laugh come from the caves
And knew it was that voodoo creep
He burst from his cave, and released his control
Spinning in circles, and flashing his pole.

So us and Steve the Witchdoctor became best bros
He hung out with the Weredude, and made jewelry out of toes
He surfed all day and night, he would never behave
Some cops tried to bust him, but he cursed them with the AIDS

He was surfing through the eyes of the dead
Mind controlling zombies is his only way to shred
That concludes our campfire tale, and if you don't believe
We can head on down to Wormwood, and hit the tide with Steve!
Track Name: The Breastilence
The most unholy terror
Most profane blasphemy
It's coming to your town
It's infecting your city

The ringing screams of the disesed
carry through the leaves of trees
Mother fuck, this again?
I thought we cured the air herpes

Men and children run and cry
To escape the lord of plagues
Carve the coffins, grab some shovels
we'd better start digging graves

Where are the women? Are they all dead?
That would fucking suck!
That's when we saw it, oh Jesus the terror
All their tits were falling off!

A hulking mound of rotting tit flesh
Mourned by weeping chicks and dudes
Where once sat lovely knockers
Instead were concave wounds

The A cupped girls didn't mind much
The B cups were distraught
The C cupped ladies fucking cried
D cups and up blew their heads off

Goreshack bros! To the rescue
We'll get to the bottom of this
Dreaded air herpes and now this shit
This terrible breastilence?

They stole our boobs those motherfuckers!

We gathered up the Weredude and the witchdoctor Steve
We told them the news, they did not believe
We showed them the piles, they both cried
I could see in their eyes a small part of them died

We jumped in the car to investigate
No reason or time to procrastinate
We searched the through the alleys, again and again
Weredude spotted some peculiar marked cans.

"Leviticorp" was the logo, what's this about?
the cans were opened, and gas was leaking out
We did some research and a few web searches
These guys were chemists, funded by some churches

A moral agenda was their motivation
They were trying to stop sex and masturbation
Theyd release mutant herpes, and ruin our ladies
To stop us from fornicating and ejaculating

We knocked down their door, they scattered like rats
Weredude ate a few, Steve pelted them with scat.
Most of them escaped, in a puff of smoke
Chainsaw hacked their PCs, and made an antidote

May this be the last we hear, of those little shits
Trying to block my dong, and ruin all the tits
Track Name: S.M.K.(Surf.Mosh.Kill.)
We don't wake in the morning, we stay up all night
Just before the sunrise, we hit the fuckin tide
The water chills our bodies, the coral slits our veins
We fall off of our boards, then we rise to surf again

Lurk out of the water, with barnacles and crabs
The girls laugh and point but we just stare at their ass
If any fake ass posers try to sneak up on our surf
theyll be dead by dawn and buried in the earth

Moshing is the ritual of blood and pain and flesh
Bang your fuckin head, thrash to the death
Stomp your booted feat, swing your elbows
Break somebodies nose with a flurry of blows

Moving in a circle, at a frantic pace
Don't be afraid there's no loser in this race
When somebody falls, pick their ass up
If they're in a cardigan, stomp their bitchy guts.

There's one command in our minds
It pounds loudly through our heads
Surf Mosh Kill!
It's our creed, fuck the rest

Zombie brigade attack
Our knives slice through your neck
Surf Mosh Kill
SMK carved in your chest

No chance of survival
There wont be anything left
Surf Mosh Kill!
To the fucking death!

When the sun sets, we head out to some shows
Sacrifyx is playing! be sure to tell your bros
Grab some malt liquor, at least 300 cans
If we get lucky we'll be doing keg stands

The crowed erupted, a vortex in the dark
some dude crowd surfed on an inflatable shark
Posers were cleaved, and hipsters were beaten
Weredude brought a date, but that bitch got eaten!

Bang your head, foam at the mouth, till you can't no more
If you're too cool for that shit you'll be axed with no remorse!
Surfing beer and titties, metal, meat and shows
Moshing, zombies, horror movies, that is what we love
Track Name: The Curse of Brosferatu
Not so long ago, there was an evil vampire
He lived at the top of a shopping mall, and listened to a lot of bon iver
Chai tea latte's were his beverage of choice, with a dash of blood of course
He spent most of his evenings, driving his mom and dad's porche

He was capable of flight, and turning into a bat
but mostly worried if his pale ass looked fat
His coven is whack, they all look glam
you can see it clearly on their instagram

They're all smart asses and curse the shacks name
They wear skinny jeans, how fucking lame
He gives them all something, after they're bit
A grey cardigan, the mark of membership

Brosferatu! The terror in the night!
Brosferatu! Watch out for his bite!
Brosferatu! He's coming for your wang!
Brosferatu! He's after you again!
Brosferatu! Enemy of the Shack!
Brosferatu! Better guard your crack!

Then one day, a plot was hatched, to invade wormwood beach
They'd burn our shack, break our boards, and blast us with dub step beats
Kill our zombies for good, pour out our beer
Pull steve out of his cave, and melt down his chair

Shave the weredude , send him to school
To be taught manners and forget how to drool
Tackle doctor chainsaw, Bruising his chin
Tear down the shredmill, for the recycle bin

Lock us in a compound, surrounded by a fence
And tell us how they helped to fund the breastilence
That's not all, it get's worse, not better
They'll require a uniform with a cardigan sweater

What a nightmare, we can't let this happen
We'll mount a defense and stomp their little asses!

They're invading our beach, it's time to fight, let's kick some fucking ass!
Rip off their glasses and cardigans and stab them with some broken glass!
Someone goes berserk mode! It's a fucking cop?
It's Deltawing Officer Rathbun, busting shots non stop!
Out of the blue bitches start to fly, it's our Aussie bro Alex Potts!
A brutal jiu jitsu master, he hacks and chokes and stomps!

Brosferatu himself! He's fucking mad!
That little punk bitch even brought his mom and dad!
Dad points and yells "you boys better stop!"
Rathbun drew his gun, and blew his cock off!

Brosferatu swooped down but was abruptly stopped
Potts had his ass in a crazy leg lock!
He almost had him dead, but he lost his hold
He died almost instantly his body turned cold!

Brosferatu! What an asshole!
Brosferatu! Hipster scum!
Brosferatu! You dick!
Brosferatu! Bon Iver sucks!
Brosferatu! We should piss on his cardigan!
Brosferatu! We kicked your ass, God damn it!

Weredude howled! His aussie buddy's dead!
He went fucking nuts, he started to shred
Rathbun wasn't watching, he didn't dodge
So he fell victim, to a flailing claw

His blood drained out, limp his body fell
Steve saw it happen, tears began to swell
He conjured voodoo spells, fire began to fall
Most of those bitches ran back to the mall
Track Name: Beercan Burial
This is what we're afraid of, it is our greatest fear
It's not a rapist, ghost or maniac, we've run out of beer!

We need more brew we've got no time to waste
Cases of malt liquor, I know just the place
Who's got some cash, where's the money we need?
Weredude spent it all on some shitty skunk weed!

What a fuckin douche, now we're all screwed
That's when the best of ideas was brewed!
We don't need cash, just some man power
we'll rob a liquor store in a half an hour

We need more sets of hands, more zombies is what we need
Pile up some dead bodies, summon Witchdoctor Steve!
Our buddies Mr. Potts and Officer Rathbun
Reanimate their bodies, before they start to turn

We march our freshly made zombie bros quietly down the street
They're hungry when they're new so we feed them hipster meat
To the liquor warehouse on 18th and Ash, we're breaking in we don't need cash
Chainsaw brought his old pickup truck, we're stealing it all, we don't give a fuck

Cases of malt liquor, only the finest
Thousands of cans, piling up behind us
Mickys, King Cobra, Schlitzes Blue bull
Steel Reserve 211, out of control

Country Club, High Life, Colt 45
So drunk, fucked up, I feel so alive
Throw the can behind you, start to slam dance
Oh shit, oh fuck! An avalance of cans!

We stole too much beer, way more than we need!
Where did all the bodies go? What happened to Steve?!
We lost our ghouls Rathbun and Potts, this is a fucked scenario
Run for your life, oh holy shit, this is a fuckin beercan burial!

Beercan Burial, Fuck!
Track Name: Surf Nazis Must Die!
Today was just another day, to drink and fuck and surf
Who the fuck are these assholes, that my eyes observe?

They're always saluting, and have swastika tattoos
We were going to rob them, but they've got no booze

They encroach on our waves, and goose step like little fags
they hate on Dr. Chainsaw, cause he has a Jewish dad

Take a broken bottle, stab them in the eyes
Deface their nazi symbols, fuck your racial pride!

They hate on certain races, we hate they're alive
We're cleaning up our beaches, surf nazis must die!