My wife, who usually tunes out most of the crap I listen to, offered up a rare review of this, saying it was about as annoying as the crusty thing that develops on a squeeze bottle of mustard. To be honest, I couldn’t have put it any more succinctly. They call themselves “raw ‘n’ dirty punk rocker,” but sound more like some lame faux oi band with more emphasis on calling girls “bitches” than the usual “let’s get drunk and beat someone up” bullshit so prevalent in that genre. This is not to say the lyrical quality is any better, ’cause it ain’t. And don’t even get me started on their name. Guys, the word is COBARDES, not COBARDOS. Limited to 138 hand-numbered copies on thick red vinyl? Uh, make that 137, ’cause this one just went sailing out my window.