Close your eyes. I want you to think back... back... alllllll the way back to that party at that one dude’s gross apartment. You remember him. He’d let all the kids come hang out at his place and probably even buy the beer so he wouldn’t feel so alone. A few beers in, you are feeling like pure magic. But one too many “pussy!”‘s in your direction and you give into the peer pressure. Remember specifically the first few breathes you took after the last fateful exhale of that Devil’s Lettuce. Think about how you sank down into that beer-soaked couch all warm and fuzzy. Stale cigarette smoke and BO in the air. Think hard, What is that music playing in the background? Can you hear it? Almost, right? Like it’s in a distant room? Rippling, fading in and out, unintelligible, like it’s in another language—the intensity of the music waxing and waning, super slow in the blink of an eye. Now close your eyes and smile. Sink just a little deeper into that romantical and oh-so-fragrant couch. Then it hits you all at once... yer gonna barf! The urgency! No time for a Plan B here. Take immediate action and everyone makes it out of this situation safely. There’s no wounded pride if no one sees you spew! This is the kind of wild ride you are in for if you give these French punkers a chance. These tracks are recorded over some years and range from drum machine to live drummer to just one dude fucking around in his bedroom. I don’t know what they are singing about, but I like it.
–Jackie Rusted (Frantic City, franticcity.bandcamp.com)