The guys on insert look like dirty bastards (which I mean as a compliment). The music isn’t. The music is firmly set in the mid-Dischord era of Jawbox and Lungfish, which means there’s still power left in the punches, but Gang of Four’s and Wire’s angles have found their ways in. An example: Get a mouse. Put it in a box. Roll it down a hill. (Not a big one. You don’t want to hurt it.) Release it. It can’t walk in a straight line, though it really tries. Thusly, are Exercise. Sometimes, I’m thinking, “Rock the fuck out. I can hear you can. You know how to. You want to. Do it.” And although this CD’s okay plus plus, and the people who put it out are fuckin’-a righteous (anyone who takes you to a place that has a sausage as the door handle is A-OK in my book), I hear afterburners that I constantly want to be goosed but aren’t.
–todd (Learning Curve)