The mighty, outspoken, tattooed one is back with a vengeance in all of his disheveled, snaggle-toothed glory! On this here skull-pummeling platter of raging punkrock fury, Duane Peters and his maniacal band of thuggish noise-mongers ballistically blaze through a flesh-scorchin’ swirl of sonic unruliness that quickly crumbled the infrastructure of my house and completely leveled it to the ground! I shit you not, these ferociously spectacular songs slash straight for the jugular like a freshly sharpened straight-edged razor being violently wielded by a deranged, psychopathic madman. The lyrics are humorously sentimental (“Dog Bowl Love”), descriptively disturbing (“Canker Sore of Greenwich St.”), venomously vitriolic (“War of the Worlds”… a well-deserved Duane-style tirade against a certain despicable bin Laden ass-wart!), heartfelt and harrowing (“Jet 757”… a horrific, realistic account of the hijacked jet that crashed in the rural Pennsylvania countryside on September 11th), and uncannily observant of the miserable circumstances facing the unfortunate and desperate rejects of our so-called civilized society (“Hobo Jungle” and “Dead Man Talking”). My personal auditory favorites contained herein include “Surf Sacrifice," “Wayward Bantams," and “Forever After” (a hilarious California-style Sid-and-Nancy story on which dastardly Duane loudly duets with Texas Terri!). By far, this is one of the most energetically inspired discs that’s yet laid waste to my eardrums, and it’s hands-down some of the liveliest working-class music ever conceived. –Roger Moser, Jr.
–guest (Disaster)