So I’m sitting here wading through some bottom-of-the-barrel reject discs I’ve been putting off reviewing for this issue and I come upon this buried in the crap I’ve scooped up. Depressed and more than a little punchy, thanks to the long line of affected college boys who have vented their politically correct rage into my ear over the course of the previous fifteen releases I’ve listened to today, I look at the cover, grunt, place the disc in the stereo and hit “play,” bracing myself for the pop punk onslaught that will no doubt come belching forth from my speakers. Much to my surprise, what came from said speakers if some prime-rate punk rock that sent my depression scampering for the hills. “Man, I needed this,” I say to myself as I crank it up to eleven. Fuck comparisons, this is just one of them discs that just rocks and nothing more need be said about it. A glance at the “thank you” notes on the inside reveals a Razorcake mention and I think how symbiotic that is – we Razorcakers only dig the finest in music and, in turn, are thanked by only the finest of bands.