Shang-a-Lang: Dudes are bummed, but somehow turn songs of bummerdom and “I’m-about-to-crack” into these finger-snapping, duct tape anthems of basement salvation. Don’t know if I want them to get happier since their pain is my gain. Any sort of life-issue resolution may make their songs suck… Anyhow, I may be committing some sort of sin here, but I think if they took a sock or two off the microphones and took the sleeping bag out of the bass drum when they recorded, it’d punch up the recording a bit. The songs shine through, though. Sex Advice: Don’t want to force them in a place they’d find uncomfortable, but I think they’re the missing link between high-quality Queers (Love Songs for the Retarded) and Black Flag (all the way up to the B-side of Damaged). Bubble gum with jagged edges that wants to kill you. Nice split.