I don’t feel like making friends today, so I’ll say that pop punk people who are completely locked in pop punk boxes are sad, vicious creatures who—by copious evidence—have developed a special venom on the interwebs. So when pop punk comes across my desk, I have to take a deep breath and whisper, “Don’t let the chodes dictate.” The Dead Uncles are very good. I like them. Ironically—as with Be My Doppelganger—they didn’t instantly convince me. It’s ironic, because the underpinning of pop punk is the goal of being instantly catchy pop instead of “re-listen and soak in it” music. But, there’s no mistaking that Dead Uncles grew on me with each spin—there are multiple musical levels at work and the lyrics belie a certain level of candidness—reminding me of Dear Landlord and The Dopamines. I like those bands and I’m willing to full-face admit it to some digitally-infuriated doucheburger who can’t see beyond their small, precious, ultimately suffocating fascinations with a rigid subgenre.
–todd (Shock To The System)