Sometimes a live performance is the best way to hear a new band. Fortunately, this was just the way I first experienced New Jersey hardcore quartet Toothgrinder, during a concert with Revocation and Fallujah last winter (and headlined by the beachy progcore of The Contortionist, oddly enough). I was already interested prior to the show from reading about the wild on-stage antics of front man Justin Matthews, and he definitely delivered. With his fist-raising roars and a physically commanding presence, Matthews easily won the crowd, stomping around stage like a Jägerbomb-fueled King Kong and climbing atop amplifiers like the place was his personal jungle gym. The spectacle impressed me enough to check out 2014's Schizophrenic Jubilee EP, a five-song racket of riotous, tech-y hardcore that retained enough instrumental prowess to still feel 'metal.' I wasn't floored, but was intrigued enough to snatch up full-length debut Nocturnal Masquerade to see how well the group could continue channeling their Garden State fury. The answer, fortunately, is pretty damn well. Not unlike a djentier and techier Every Time I Die, Masquerade combines a fuck-all attitude, tightly riveted melodies and rhythms, and a sense of abrasive aggression into a 42-minute package that feels like getting a piece of steel wool shoved down your throat--yet it remains hooky enough to wash it down with something sweet afterward. Take opener "The House (That Fear Built)." Moving from its quick and springy Eastern-sounding opening, the song bursts into a series of chunky, sharp hardcore riffs that climax with a set of wailing cleans delivered by bassist Matt Arensdorf. Later, "Despondency Dejection" features a simple main lick that builds tension like a screw being tightened into one's skull, while the opening of "Coeur d'Alene" wouldn't sound entirely out of place on a Periphery record, before a pounding gutpunch riff breaks in to remind one that this is still a hardcore album first and foremost. Overall, Nocturnal Masquerade is an enjoyable and energetic record that I wish I could endorse more enthusiastically. Unfortunately, in addition to my aforementioned woes, the staccato vocal and riffin