I know I’m not the first to say this, but Jesus wept, “How the fuck does one ‘review’ a bona fide classic?” To say this is one of those releases that should be in the collection of punks of every stripe is understating things—it should be imbedded in your DNA by this point, right along with all the other classics that pollute those “best of” lists folks like to make and then argue about. This is prime pickin’s here, with a sound that melds the “street” of the British oi that was making the rounds when this was released back in 1983, the primal thud of early Canadian punk, and the abrasiveness of Midwestern hardcore into something entirely their own—guttural, primitive, raw, yet catchy as all get-out. Mind-boggling thing is they cranked out a few more albums after this that were monsters in their own right. This, though, is the starting point, and to those of you out there who haven’t yet picked it up, lemme beg you to do so. You’ll thank me later.
–jimmy (Beer City)