Hot damn indeed, this is filthy, vile, obnoxious, and outrageously impure scum-rock perversity at its most brain-bashin' best (equal parts belligerent bone-fracturin' punk and mayhemic metal meatiness)! The blazin' firestorm of sick and twisted songs contained herein rowdily run rife with demon-possessed rabid-dog vocals, big, beefy guitar riffs that murderously grind into the gut like a fully revved rust-encrusted chainsaw, thundering torrents of earthquake-rumblin' bass ballsiness, and a spine-crackin' assault of dinosaur-stomp drum boomings. Yep, The Filthy Skanks raucously roar through a fast-as-fuck assortment of frenetic tit-twistin' tunes about wrestling, rock'n'roll, poontang, and the big bad devil himself... and they effortlessly flail through an oddball array of cacophonously crazed covers of The Misfits' "I Turned into a Martian," Johnny Cash's "I've Been Everywhere" and "San Quentin," and the Ramones' "Havana Affair" and "Endless Vacation" (my all-time fave Ramones ditty, as a matter of factual insignificance!). Whooooodoggy, after a brew-drenched afternoon of endlessly replayin' this diabolically deranged disc, my ears are now a mangled mass of smoldering flesh! I've sold my soul to The Filthy Skanks, and I couldn't be happier!
–guest (The Filthy Skanks)