(Translated from my original Italian text by ChatGPT and Piero Scaruffi)

The first single immediately earned Hammerhead (Paul Sanders on guitar and vocals, Paul Erickson on bass and vocals, and Jeff Morridian on drums) a reputation as the Helmet of the Midwest (North Dakota, to be precise): Peep captured the ferocity of full-throttle hyper-punk rock, while the B-side, U.V., opened with a minute of chaotic dissonance and erupted into a maximal-power explosion driven by granite-solid rhythms.

The album Ethereal Killer (Amphetamine Reptile, 1993) was hailed for containing some of the decade’s grittiest tracks, from the driving anthem American Rampage to the desperate rally of Slumberyard. From the frantic rush of Vegas Incident to the hammering neurosis of Moleboy, the record gives no respite, parading a humanity of murderers, psychotics, and degenerates. Vocalists and guitarists Paul Sanders and Paul Erickson lead their quartet through an orgy of sonic lava and tar. The harmonies are terrifyingly dense, the performance visceral, last-second-of-life intensity, and the instrumental arrangements are post-hardcore in the tradition of Slint and Bitch Magnet

On the EP Evil Twin (Amphetamine Reptile, 1993), the title track makes an appearance—rocking as always but more melodic than average—the tribal instrumental orgy of Anvil, and especially Washout, a fiery jam-fest showcasing abrasive guitar timbres. Determined to claim the title of "superpower trio," Hammerhead continue playing catastrophic rock defined by acrobatic guitar riffs, nervously pulsating rhythms, and a burning, wooden-sounding bass distortion.

On the next album, Into The Vortex (Amphetamine Reptile, 1994), there are numerous innovations: Swallow and Double Negative live up to the band’s reputation, while All This Is Yours is a more conventional boogie, perhaps their most accessible track ever. Galaxy 66 reinvents the surf-instrumental genre in their own noisy style, and Journey To The Center Of Tetnus 4 even experiments with a Hawkwind-style psychedelic suite. What changes most is the sound itself: much stronger and more consistent, with Melvins-worthy grandeur on Empty Angel and Codeine-like catatonic cadences on Starline Locomotive.

More dynamite than ever, Hammerhead open Duh The Big City (Amphetamine Reptile, 1996) with one of the wildest progressions since early Chrome, Earth. The bass’s tank-like roars, the guitar’s distorted undulations, and the deafening drum march make Meanderthal a spectacular example of ultra-hard rock. In general, however, the claustrophobic intensity of previous records is mitigated by calmer elements: a cabaret-like step through the deadly turbulence of Mission: Illogical, or the Eastern-flavored chant over the seismic jolts of Monkey Mountain. The trio even manages to string together a couple of simple choruses over linear riffs (NY Alone and Mune). The final surprise is the title track, which closes the album with primitive, abrasive punk rock, with hints of the Clash. Praise is due to Craig Klaus, the untamable guitarist, always attacking, always at full volume, always in motion, and to Jeff Mooridian, one of the most relentless drummers of the moment, who more than compensates for Paul Erickson’s weaknesses as a vocalist. It is probably their album of maturity, successfully blending both their most experimental excesses and their more melodic compromises naturally.
The band, however, disbanded shortly afterward.