There’s a theory that time travel is largely a matter of perception. It’s simple, really. Activities that aren’t stimulating appear to take longer. Fun things go by in a zip. Time travel also has to do with tolerances and resistance: what you’re willing to put up with. That’s why, to me, if Led Zeppelin is playing it seems like all their songs are five times longer than the actual fifteen minute solos before the little girl starts singing again. Tick tock. Tick tock. The other side to time travel is hitting the high spots in wavelengths, like slicing through the tips of waves. Decades can come and go in blinks and cinched up tight. Signposts that, although they may be thirty years in the rearview, can become meaningful and fruitful to the course of a current band. So, when I say that the Libyans stitch together tight the now-reasonably-known angsty shot-from-the-dark energy of The Avengers to the modern drive of The Assassinators, it’s a straight shot that covers a tremendous amount of time, but the perception is bam, bam, bam. The Libyans have harnessed the ability to collect up three decades of straight-forward, tuneful, forceful punk rock and cinch them up tight around the listener’s ears. Man, this is some great stuff.
–todd (Sorry State)