First impressions: not good. Ugly sleeve, ugly name. Judging books by covers and all that.
How nice then, to have my socks rocked by the first track, which is an absolute goddamn barnstormer and struts from the speakers like an insolent young punk, all sneers, howls and guitar lines to kill for. And so it progresses in similar fashion throughout. Cues are taken from dead DC art punks like Circus Lupus, Kerosene 454 and Bluetip, periodically injecting those corpses with the rock and/or roll so effectively kicked out by Hot Snakes. Good choice. Sometimes things get jazzy and hush down a touch, a la latterday Fugazi, which works nicely enough even though I’d really prefer them to be rocking out and kicking sand in my face, but maybe that’s just me being greedy.
Solid as hell, even if the brunt of the album seems to tremor in awe of that almighty first track.