I often sit and wonder what would have happened to the Bouncing Souls if they didn’t start treading water in the songwriting department a couple years back. Abe’s voice reminds me of ’em. I wonder what would happen if the Crowd got into a time warp dealie and were transmigrated to Northern Califonia in the ’00s. Then rubbed raw against concrete. I no longer have to wonder. When I saw these guys, they were so fucked up, I really think they were all playing a different song at the same time for about a minute, then they gave up. Such endearing behavior always puts a check mark and smiley face near your name in my book. I bet, to woo the ladies, they line up all the chunks from their puke and spell out the girl’s name before falling back into the splooge. Three short, effective, and catchy splashes in bright green vinyl. Hostage Records’ only non-SoCal band. Good stuff.