Shang-a-Lang: Hang in with me on this. Imagine if the Dead Milkmen weren’t goofy, and instead of the goofiness was a self-deprecating earnestness. (All of this through a DIY, 2008, slightly Crimpshrine’d punk rock lens, mind you.) I mean, shit alive, the Dead Milkmen were catchy as hell, made you sing along to things you wouldn’t necessarily come up with singing by yourself, and it’s cathartic to scream along to. They’re the slightly stained, well-worn T-shirt to the Milkmen’s paisley shirt with a collar. Land of Enchantment, indeed. Jonesin’: From the ashes of Down In The Dumps. Sounds like Dukes Of Hillsborough by way of Gunmoll: burlaped voice, like someone’s throat is a bedroll of knives, dirt, and glass shards. Florida-ation facial grown rock by way of NYC that’s working on, and beginning to succeed, in sounding epic. Not bad at all.
–todd (Dirt Cult/ Dead Broke)