Regi Mentle was/is an old L.A. punk in tight with the Germs and their “Circle One” of close pals/fans. He’s been on a very long federally-mandated vacation stay for the past thirty years, and during that time has continued to compose art, poetry, and prose. Chris from The Rogue Nations apparently struck up a friendship with Regi, who provided Chris and his fellow Rogue Nations some lyrical fodder with which to work. Through Chris’s voicebox, Regi addresses—via the resulting six songs here—a wide spread of subjects: self-loathing, the frustration of incarceration, winos on wheels, even being fucked by Dracula. It’s set to the tunesmithing of a band that succeeds in keeping the feel, and, on occasion, the twisted humor, of early L.A. punk intact. This may not be, according to the lyric sheet, Rogue Nations’ regular sound, but it’s one they do well here, which, coming from an old L.A. punk, is no faint praise.
–jimmy (Rogue Nations, myspace.com/theroguenations)