My big surprise of this go-round: the packaging on this is seriously hideous, so much so that I saved it until almost last to listen, expecting it to be wretched, but slap me with a beef tongue and call me cow supper. Eight (way too few) ditties of catchy soul punk (I keep wanting to call it that but I don’t know if it is that, or if that’s even a thing) that sounds like it ought to be on Swami and reminds me of how I felt when I listened to Nation of Ulysses. The singer’s got a highish voice that’s kind of like the Blood Brothers’ but yelling instead of screaming, and the music’s a little spastic and a lot bumpin, dynamic as recommended, and like a party in a box. Prepare to dance, alone or in pairs.
–doug (True Love)