My attention often aimlessly wanders like a lil’ kid separated from his mommy, panic-stricken, and lost in the overwhelming maze-like confusion of a well-stocked supermarket. Boy, almost half of this CD has caused my meandering attention to become even more unfocused, listless, and receptively comatose than usual. Someday I churn out a predictable rollercoaster ride of mathematically precise redundancy, and Tanger sound uncannily like an emo Rollins Band fueled on Flintstone vitamins instead of steroids. Wretch Like Me briefly bring about a bit of energetically creative frenzy with their blazin’ punkrock abruptness. Armchair Martian sound more like a grungey armchair quarterback slumped over in a slow-motion fit of uncontrollable snoring. Bad Astronaut are indeed bad, as in pathetic, unoriginal, and sonically stinkier than freshly produced doodee nuggets (sounds like a valium-wrecked Soul Asylum down for the count). Janis Figure frenetically wail, roar, thunder, and blaze with crazed barroom-brawlin’ rock’n’roll swagger. Season To Risk absolutely took the most abhorrent of risks by relentlessly insulting my ears with their screamed angst-ridden theatrics that left me yawning with sleepy-eyed indifference (but, what the fuck! Their song “Spazzer” is an unrepentant ball-bustin’ blaster, and I’m moronically mesmerized silly by its sheer energetic ferocity). Pavers voraciously blasted the everlasting snot outta my flared nostrils with their fast-as-fuck sonic fieriness (I just gotta get my greasy lil’ fingertips on anything and everything by these musical ripsnorters!). I can’t even begin to categorize Shiner, so I won’t (oh hell, they’re a punkrock Swervedriver, if that tells ya anything... not too bad at all!). All are all-fuckin’-mighty as usual (either you’re familiar with their snotty sing-songy punkrock giddiness, or you’re not... and if you aren’t, well, that’s just your tough shit... you’d better dig a perfectly round hole in the ground and stick your head in it, ‘cause life’s already obviously passed you by!). Oh well, at least half of this disc grabbed my attention by the balls and ferociously shook my senses like no other...
–Roger Moser Jr. (Owned & Operated)