I love these guys, I mean, they are the voice of, well, discontent. They throw this playful jive at ya, splattering oil soaked lyrics fresh from the local garage and screaming about the world around ’em, stretching a C, D, and E chord progression for every last breath and the balls enough to actually write a tune called “Rock N’ Roll Rebel” and write like they mean it! These punk groups, more than they probably want to admit it, are so rooted in commercial ’80s metal it’s not even funny. But see, that was the “loose” generation that everyone wants to skip over when they compare this or that; it’s either the ’60’s, ’70’s or the fucking street but let’s not talk about screwing chicks, partying, pissing on yer parents or black concert T’s… and it reaches way, way back to duck tails and doo wop, so suck on that for a while! Yeah, these guys are doing their Grease 2 soundtrack here with heavy riff repetition and gang tackle vocalss that leave little room for error when they say “Shakes” or “Broken down like a fucking machine!” Somewhere between all the power pop, street and hardcore, there lurks a dirtier, heavier breed of punk animal that’s bent on power chords, lead fills, and loud shouts without premise or provocation, that’s bike boots over bricks, leather over liquid, and who ain’t afraid to shake a hip and spin a “baby left me” phrase like Social Distortion or The Swedes. Pick ’em up, blast “Last Chance,” “Just Don’t Care,” and “Like A Dog,” disregard the fact that nine and ten sound like four and five, or whatever, just fling ’em next to AC/DC, Motorhead, Zeke, and Marky Ramone’s latest Speed Kings jaunt and be a goddamn kid again!