An eight-song affair that starts promisingly enough with the title track’s raucous stomp, all enormous, shiny staccato chords driven by an insistent bass hum and military drumbeat before exploding into a howling chorus that the Hives would be proud to call their own. ‘Dirty Little Things’ follows along on a similar track, a big dumb garage pop track that thinks with its dick and rightly assumes that handclaps will make just about any song cooler.
This two-song volley of goodness makes what follows all the more disappointing. The next six tracks are covers, highlighting the fact that Sweatmaster probably have decent record collections but really should keep their grubby paws off of other people’s tunes. Their maulings of the Wipers, the Misfits and the Modern Lovers are dreadful but can, at least, be listened to once through apiece. It’s when we come to the abhorrent cover of Music Machine’s ‘Talk Talk’ where the boundaries of good taste are really tested, turning a work of simplistic genius into a rock ‘n’ roll car wreck leaving no survivors. With Minor Threat’s ‘I Don’t Wanna Hear It’ the terror really sets in, trading the raw energy of the original for some breezy, carefree guitars and MacKaye’s timeless holler for a tongue-in-cheek howl that is tantamount to drawing a cock and balls on the Laughing Cavalier.