Jeez, where does one begin when speaking of the Descendents? These guys have been a personal favorite of mine since White Morgan lent me the Fat EP back in junior high school, and while they may not have always managed to consistently deliver the goods over the years (the ALL album, which admittedly has some of their best work, is uneven at best), their “comeback” record, Everything Sucks, was a nice return to form, and this, their latest, is a fine extension on that album. There may be a dearth of obligatory thrashers here, but it is nonetheless chock full of some of the finest pop a punk band ever mustered – taut, tight as hell, melancholy and tough as nails all at once. More amazingly, with the explosion of tenth-rate pop-punk bands inundating the airwaves, these boys still manage to somehow set themselves apart from the pack simply by playing with a level of honesty most of the new jack bands lack. When Milo sings an anthem to being a glasses-wearing nerd, he ain’t just whistling Dixie, kid. My only gripe is that seven years is TOO FUCKING LONG to make us wait between albums. There’s got to be torture laws they’re violatin’ by having us sit and wait year after year after year for the next fix. The copy of this I happen to be reviewing is destined to be played until it disintegrates, and then replaced numerous times over the course of my lifetime.