There’s this dude named Wolf (Just “Wolf.”—it says so on his work shirt) that comes into the record store that I work at every week. He’s a blue collar dude who loves working-class punk rock and he’s always asking me to order CDs by obscure Australian bands in that genre. This CD is right up his alley. It’s too bad it’s not up mine, because these guys write catchy enough songs and seem like they believe in what they’re doing. It’s just not for me.
–Ryan Horky (Motherbox, myspace.com/motherboxrecords)