Kinda feel this is what you might get if you hosed down Trap Them before giving them a haircut and forcing them into a nice smart shirt. You lose the crust, the death metal and the overbearing smell of armpit, and what’s left is a polished, professional slice of modern hardcore. It’s fine enough and rarely causes offence, but what I really want to do after listening is throw on a No Statik record and thrash around the living room til my t-shirt sticks to my back.