This is more than a little reminiscent of a very brief period between the first and second waves of U.S. punk, when the old guard was just starting to get taken over by a harsher new breed, yet still well within the period when punk rock was less about being a soundtrack for assholes beating each other up and more about raising a bit of a fuss just for the hell of it. Though I haven’t clue one as to where these guys are from, this specifically reminds me of that little clutch of early Texas bands like Legionaire’s Disease and The Dicks, bands who could make being abrasive and obnoxious sound like the greatest thing in the world. Mr. David sounds here like he’s trying desperately to shred his larynx into tiny bits of confetti, while his cohorts sneak in some tasty, creative bits as they smash and bash at their instruments like they were piñatas stuffed with money. Loud, crude, chaotic and all kinds of fucked up, and you get fourteen glorious tracks of it, punk.
–jimmy (Josh David And The Dream Jeans, [email protected])