Remember those protective biohazard crime scene suits they wore when they hauled barrels of acid-washed human being chunks out of Jeffrey Dahmer’s apartment-cum-butcher shop? Well, as soon as I glanced at this disc I threw one of those on and made damn sure that all the snaps were snapped and all the zippers zipped. This thing is crawling with tell-tale signs that seem to point directly to the vile noxiousness known back in the day as “emotional punk” and now known as simply as a “cash cow.” Arsty artwork and angel statues and gawky song titles like “Anxieties of the Vain and Unknowing.” That, my friends, is the musical equivalent of a shoe box full of human penises. But as so few times happens, I can happily announce that my keen first-impression instruments steered me wrong on this one. Oh sure, every once in a while Outlie pirouettes dangerously close to the tough-but-snuggly world of emo, but all-in-all this has some punch to it. And more importantly, it is punch given unapologetically – without the immediate obligatory “okay, now we’re gonna show you that we’re sensitive, too” malarkey. This has the melodies of early Social Distortion mixed with the musical dynamics of Quicksand. Actually, it maybe reminds me most of the Lillingtons. And I like them. So I guess I can take this stupid suit off now.
–aphid (Porterhouse)