Just when I’m fed up with the waves of third-rate teenage mohawk rock ripping the ass off of Blitz and Cock Sparrer (when they think they’re copping Rancid), while inadvertently making a prison camp for street punk, comes another band onto my radar screen that’s got it all right. The Boils have anger you can feel and musicianship that’s unmistakable – catchy, and as sharp as getting tangled up in spools of barbed wire. What’s refreshing is that The Boils actually sound like they’re truly pissed, that they’ve got deep record collections, are concerned with amping their songs the fuck out, and their hands have actually seen calluses (and not from stroking their own egos). Pride and Persecution’s also impressive by the fact that it changes modes effortlessly without pussing – from the early Agnostic Front hardcore thud, to The Bodies’ velocity, all the way to the abrasive poppiness of Sweden’s Asta Kask. If you aren’t singing along to “as long as there’s kids dumber than dirt” from “New Majority,” perhaps you should be knitting a sweater instead, renewing your subscription to Young Miss (for the articles, you perv) and working on your 401k. Philadelphia’s anger is sounding mighty and good these days. As they say, “Here’s to the bittersweet taste of anger in our blood.” Here’s to something 100% recommended.