Guerilla Toss has all the makings of experimental greatness: irregular time signatures, an off-putting name, and a singer utterly devoid of self-consciousness. After a few seconds of stumbling around mumbling gibberish as if in a trance, frontwoman Kassie Carlson took a deep breath and let fly a syncopated barrage of screams as ear-piercing as they were exciting to the moshing all-ages crowd, and her male band mates occasionally joined in. As their short, explosive set sped towards the finish line, I thought at turns of Primus, Captain Beefheart, AIDS Wolf, an evil carnival, and Ponytail. But where the late Ponytail dealt in free-flowing, half-improvised compositions, this chaos seemed more or less planned. Their energy was also a good bit thrashier and darker, though certainly not without humor. Exemplary lyric (when lyrics could be understood): “You’re not my dad! You’re not my real dad! You’re not my dad! My dad lives in Tampa!”

– Village Voice