Sweet holy fuggin’ Christ, someone help me pick my brains up offa the floor…. This, my fine-feathered friends, is why you should never, EVER count out the old farts, ’cause just when you least expect it, they come up from behind your smug ass and whop you upside your flat noggin’ with a Mack truck. Mostly new, all-of-’em-glorious tracks from these scene vets, and also the first release by an active lineup in at least two decades. All venom, bile and virulence belched forth, blowing all the cobwebs offa this Trojan horse and sending it out into the midst of the misguided hardcore hordes to help ’em see the light and learn ’em what punk rock SHOULD be, namely something that would get any kid grounded for ten years just for owning a copy. My god, who’d a-thunk these guys were capable of such a monster? Sure, those singles were swell, and that “Pull It and Yell” disc wasn’t too shabby, but good lord, this is soooooo beyond merely upping the ante. We’re talking pure sonic bombast here, a metaphorical BAM BAM BAM BAM to the cranium, a reason to trash your bedroom for no reason, a reason to slap your little sister silly just for bein’ alive. If you have any sense left in that puny little brain of yours, you’ll rush out, make a copy of this your own, proudly display it someplace visible and take your lumps when your parents find out you wasted your lunch money on such “filth.” Recommend it? Hell, I’d buy each of you a copy if I had enough money.