Ahh, motherfuckin’ Smogtown, stalwarts of the New Beach Alliance. Is it true that All Wiped Out won’t be their swan song, that it wasn’t just a CD to crank, like summons for a dance to bring their acid rain of notes to melt that frown off my face and remind me of the good times? Will the Fuhrers of the New Wave resurrect themselves and not succumb to their own personal Bodie 601s? There are rumors afoot that by the time this magazine hits the stands that the wheels will be back on the Gross Polluter and Smogtown will be back playing audio radiation live. Hope so.All Wiped Out’s got everything that made Smogtown the Southern California punk band to beat – songs about crazy bag ladies, bricks to the face, and the weeds in Western punk culture growing up through the concrete that wants it all to be smooth and does its best to weigh it down to look the same. Smogtown’s in fine form on these eight songs, flexing a throttle that can blast a hardcore beach tune then pull back with “Squares,” quite possibly their prettiest and catchiest song to date.