BOOOOOM! That’s the exact sound my friggin’ head made the moment all the instruments kicked in on this, my favorite album for the week. I’ve always been a little cynical when it came to this band, primarily because all of my fellow Razorcakers are so hot on Dillinger jock and I like ribbin’ ’em for it, but, truth be known, I’ve secretly admired this band for their ability to add a little pop to their core and vice-versa and not sound like all the other shit bands that fail so miserably at the same formula. They’re so good at it, in fact, that the resulting music is not hardcore, is not pop, but rather one damn fine slab o’ tuneage that transcends the punk rock pigeonholes people will inevitably try to shove them into. Forget the powerful performances and obvious work these guys put into this album. Pay no mind to the substantive lyrics they’ve managed to muster. Fuck the fact that this might be the best release I’ve personally ever heard on Fat. That’s all true, of course, but the simple fact is that this mutherfugger flat-out ROCKS, baby, and that’s all a listener can hope for. Everything else is just icing.