I’m guessing that these here rocking doods think that they’re continuing in the grand tradition of witty, technically proficient punk bands like SNFU and NOFX. They do have some of the requisite “punk” stuff: a dork with a mohawk, some ska rhythms here and there, and song titles like “Eat Shit and Die” and “Proud to Be An Asshole.” But this isn’t even punk by the numbers – it's lower than that. For some reason I have a feeling Carson Daly would think these guys “rock.” In other words, the music’s safe, it’s clean, it’s corporate sounding and it blows. If the chuckle fucks in this band weren’t in hair metal bands ten years ago, I’ll drink Ron Jeremy’s bath water with the Hedgehog still sitting in it. They tip their hand way too many times; the guitar solos alone are so glistening with a lube of their own pre-cum that they’d make a wank maestro like Warren DiMartini blanch. And what’s this? This band was voted “best punk band in L.A.” two years in a row?!? The same L.A. that back in the day belched forth bands like Fear, Black Flag, Circle Jerks, the Germs and the Dickies? Egad. The mind reels. Remind me to update my list of “Reasons I Fucking Hate L.A.” Just to see if it was just me being unnecessarily grumpy and narrow-minded, I actually brought this disc to work and played it. Everyone laughed at it. Seriously. Dumb name. Dumb cover. Dumb songs. To bastardize an ee cummings line, this is dung-luscious. 100% dog manure. I wouldn’t feed this to Sebastian Bach.
–aphid (Industrial Strength)