Hmm…. A punk band that actually sounds punk. How novel a concept in this, the era of weepy James Taylor clones calling their drivel emo and poopy poppunk bands who think fart jokes and whiny nasal attempts at singing are witty and cutting edge. These guys sound like they crossed the space-time continuum in a machine that left Texas circa 1982 and made a beeline for the new millennium to show these “new school” pretenders what fuckin’ time it is. Sloppy in all the right ways, snotty in all the right places, up to its eyeballs in seething attitude, aggressiveness that isn’t achieved solely by playing atone thousand mph and LOUD, this, my fine-feathered friends, is one ass-kicking release. Prepare to be bitch-slapped and love every second of it. You’d have to be a complete moron not to pick this up.
–jimmy ([email protected])