Wipers-by-way-of-Estranged darkened punk. When the male/female vocals wail simultaneously, it’s pure magic. And the songs on their own blister and sulk in some of the best shadows of punk’s torrid bleakness. But getting a three-sided double LP that plays at 45 is kind of a bummer. And while it doesn’t feel right to dwell on that, these are some desperate songs, and I really wanna believe in it. Records are a luxury; let’s not get too decadent.
–Daryl Gussin (Let’s Pretend)