Fugazi - Repeater - 1990

There are many critics who label this a simple "repeat," as it were, of the musical ideas expressed on the first two EPs, but I have to wholeheartedly disagree. It may be stylistically similar, but almost all of these tunes take the signature sound to its logical extreme; in other words, there are no "Waiting Room" rip-offs on here. Instead, they fiddle with novel guitar sounds (the eerie cyclical feedback whine of the title track, the string scraping melody of "Styrofoam," the bouncy ticky floppydop of "Merchandise"), further explore the dark "Promises" vibe in monstrously soulful ballads like "Turnover," "Blueprint," and "Shut The Door," and drag up the old hardcore vibe with some crazily aggressive axe grindin' (although, truthfully, the guitars may very well have been this intense on the first couple of records; they just weren't around quite as often - I didn't mean to make it sound like Fugazi aren't a guitar-based band. They DEFINITELY are. They just don't feel the need to fill every single solitary nook and cranny with distorted scrazzledazz the way that punk rockers do.).

So essentially, I consider this to be a great Fugazi recording because it capitalizes on the tuneful qualities of the basic rock and roll feel while allowing enough experimentation to avoid deserving its rather cruel title. I honestly don't feel that this is a retread at all, and it never gets boring even for a second. Plus, the CD version has three great bonus tracks!

The Exploited - Troops Of Tomorrow - 1982

When I get an idea, there's no stopping that idea regardless of its misguidedness. In this way, I'm much like our nation's president, George T. Bush. As such, I will share with you a musical song idea I accidentally had a few days ago in spite of my liberal politics.

PARODY OF DAVID LEE ROTH'S HIT PERFORMANCE OF "JUST A GIGOLO," AS WRITTEN AND RECORDED BY "WEIRD AL" YANKOVIC SHORTLY BEFORE LOSING HIS RECORDING CONTRACT:

(bouncy intro music)

(more bouncy intro music)

I'm just a Jigaboo!
And everything I do...
Etc. etc watermelon or whatever

As you can see, not all of my ideas quite get off the ground. But now's no time to complain about the earth's gravitational force; let's talk Troops Of Tomorrow!

When The Exploited's second studio LP dropped in 1982, little did they know that it would increase its velocity with 9.8 m/s for each second of its descent because of SOME FUCKING ASSHOLE FIELD WHAT, F=M/G? YEAH MORE LIKE "FUCKING=ME/UPTHEASS!!!!" But at the same time, it was a considerably stronger release than its predecessor. In the first of six hundred thousand personnel changes (actually the third, but I'll get to that in my Singles Collection review), drummer Dru Stix has been replaced by Danny Wheatley. Don't get too excited for "Danny Wheatley and calling his mom up and stuff though, because he actually only plays drums on two songs -- sadly, the two worst songs on the record. The rest are handled masterfully and speedily by the UK Subs' Steve Roberts.

And may God bless Steve Roberts because T.O.T. takes all the sluggish shambling drumrolls of P.N.D. and shoves 'em up your A.R.S.! (e.) Aside from two purposely trudging metal sludgers of foreboditure, this record is filled top to bottom with kickass angry catchy uptempo punk rock. Big John's got a mean new guitar tone, and demonstrates a strong Motorhead influence in his fast choppy 'chugga-chugga-chugga' playing. The mix is a bit trebly and reverbed, but in another interesting first, several of the songs incorporate overdubs of differently-toned, -effected or -accented rhythm guitar. For example, "They Won't Stop" is driven by a chugging rhythm guitar, but also features a reverbed metallic guitar doubling up just part of the riff, resulting in a strange 'SCROWL SCROWL' sound in the final mix. There's all kinds of examples like that I could tell you about, had I written them down.

Popular selections from this record include the anthemic UK Subby single "Alternative," exuberant chaos celebration "Disorder," hilariously blunt stomper "Fuck The USA," tribal metallic chugger "War," creepy chanted title dirge (written by the Vibrators? They outsourced their title track!?), and pissed-off speedster "UK 82." Really stupid selections from this record include aforementioned "Germs," "Sid Vicious Was Innocent" ('He didn't have a problem/'Til he met that bloody cunt!'), and a messy two-chord bonus track in which Wattie yells variations on "WHO ARE YOU FUCKIN' LOOKING AT?!" over and over as the drummer fails to maintain a steady beat.

Many on the Internet proclaim this to be the finest Exploited album. It is indeed very quite good! I suppose the chord changes could be called 'rudimentary,' but they're tough, hooky, speedy and perfect for this type of manic punk rock/hardcore.

But why did Michael Moore fail to use "Fuck The USA" as his theme song for Sicko? Check out this first couplet: "There really is nothing nice about USA/You go to the hospital, you have to pay." Am I right? Who's wrong me? With?

On another note, thank GOD Yahoo! News provides daily updates on Dancing With The Stars because I completely give a shit.

OH NO!!! They booted off Marissa!!! I absolutely and totally give a rat's ass!

YES!!! Kristi and Mark were declared finalists!!! Words can't describe how much I wholly and all-encompassingly give a flying fuck!!!!!!!

"Sarcasm I now see to be, in general, the language of the devil; for which reason I have long since as good as renounced it." - Thomas Carlyle

Well, WHOOP-DE-DOO!!!! Thomas Dickfuckle doesn't like sarcasm!

Dwarves - Come Clean - 1999

Is it just me or does Blag Dahlia totally rule? He just has such a knack for creating an enjoyable punk record. This one isn't the pop-punk melody showcase of the last CD, but it's absolutely incredible in a different way. See, each song has its own personality, its own production tricks and musical gags, its own kickass quotient and feel. In fact, Come Clean is an album that cries out to be examined and admired track by track so I'm going to do just that right now. I'm hoping that these descriptions will make you want to hear the record. That's why I'm doing this. Here I go now.

"How it's done" is generic Epitaph pop-punk (and the only song on the record that I'm less than thrilled with)
"River City" is screaming hardcore as angry as any they've ever done (who the hell is that on vocals? Sure doesn't sound like Blaggy!)
"Over You" is a strangely serious weird industrial thrash metal parody that makes hardly any sense on a Dwarves album but works anyway thanks to the hip Metallica chugging guitars and funny techno noises
"Way Out" is FUCKING HEADBANGING DWARVES HARDCORE GO! GO! GO! with a weird synth break in the middle
"Come Where The Flavor" features somebody talking through a synth like Peter Frampton would before erupting into a smooth bent-note clean guitar classic rock song with disturbingly sudden editing cuts strewn throughout (go for that diversity, Blag!)
"Deadly Eye" is a high-speed western-tinged punk tune with some odd chord changes, three different speeds and a Ramonesy guitar solo (not to mention a Dwarves shoutout in the middle backed by swishy synth noises!)
"Better Be Women" starts with one of the most hilarious answering machine messages you will ever and then goes into a catchy and beautiful Young And Good-Looking Ramones rocker with funny misogynist lyrics
"I Want You To Die" features more larynx-scraping screams backed by a sub-minute descending '60s punk riff played at hardcore speed
"Johnny On The Spot" disappoints with a vocal melody swiped from "Demonica" but impresses with a great chorus, some nice chord changes and an awesome surf guitar break
"Accelerator" chugs like the best motorcycle music, complete with an accelerator-influenced guitar line in the chorus!!!!!
"Act Like You Know" appears to be an attack on uninformed media who accuse the Dwarves of being violence mongerers but I have trouble understanding the lyrics, mainly due to the five tons of goopy vocal effects piled on (and did I mention the Indian rain dance bit with the harmonica???? DWARVES RULE!!!!)
And finally "It's Tits" - dumb and catchy, quintessential Dwarves.

Jesus Christ. The more I listen to this CD, the more I am in awe at these guys for taking punk rock to such a wonderfully diverse and multi-textured level. And they just keep doing it over and over and over again! Sure it's only 21 minutes of music, but it's 21 minutes that encompasses the whole world of punk, metal and good old rock and roll. All with a rude conscience and speed to spare. Now that the Cows are gone, there is no doubt in my mind that the Dwarves are the greatest rock band alive. Let's hope they keep the flame going as long as they can still stand up!

Dead Kennedys - Fresh Fruit For Rotting Vegetables - 1980

Okay, they started off as a pretty normal punk band. This stuff is mostly your basic distorted guitar barre chord stuff, but hits like "Drug Me," "Let's Lynch The Landlord," and "Stealing People's Mail" present the DKs as a much more spiteful and controversial band than most other punkers of the day, including those overrated superheroes "The Sex Pistols." Plus, a few of the songs, especially the eerie echo-ridden "Holiday In Cambodia" and the totally screwed-up "Ill In The Head," make it clear that this band has much loftier ideas in mind than just imitating The Ramones for the rest of their career.

This was the first hardcore album I ever heard, and it stayed in my tapedeck for months - for good reason. These songs are funny, vicious, violent, loud, fast, and not at all impenetrable like some later hardcore (and some later DKs, too, actually). Although it seems kinda slow in comparison to pogo-speed Minor Threat, Seven Seconds, D.R.I., and even their own later material, it still pretty much kicks ass all the way through. No ballads, and even the slowest songs are fast enough to bang your head to. And (if I may begin a sentence with the word "and" for a moment) "California Uber Alles" and "Holiday In Cambodia" are the most famous DK songs of all-time, making this record an essential addition to any punk rock collection. It's also the least irritating record they ever made. A few of the songs are a bit too similar (putting "I Kill Children," "Stealing Peoples' Mail," and "Funland At The Beach" all together in a row wasn't a terribly good idea), but the lyrics always make 'em interesting anyway. It's not an absolutely perfect record (very few are), but, being one of the first American hardcore albums ever made earns it very high marks in the "history" department, and it's still an awfully entertaining listen, especially for those unfamiliar with the "hardcore" genre.

The Clash - London Calling -1979

Somebody must have complained about Give 'Em Enough Rope, 'cause this sounds like a completely different band!! No more a one-dimensional barre chord combo, The Clash here present themselves as a fully-realized (and incredibly well-produced) rock/pop/reggae/funk/soul/jazz/blues/punk/lounge act with more great melodies than J.D.'s got Considine! Nineteen tracks and two albums big, this thing is darn near perfect in composition and presentation! Cereal! Rolling Stone Magazine labeled it "the finest album of the '80s," and, for once, they're actually in the right ballpark! I can't help but exclaim! Who'da dreamt that the washed-up old men that tossed out that last clunker could have transformed into this gang of tight professional musicians? Si, senor!

Okay, superlatives aside, what does the album sound like? Well, it's reeeeeal poppy. The title track and "The Guns Of Brixton" are bitter little things, but the other seventeen numbers are happier than wallpaper. Every last one of 'em! Whether they be '50s rock and roll, swing, clompy amphetamine rushes, or "Train In Vain," they're all so bubbly and full of spirit, verve, and glee that only a bitter old snooty toot could flip them an Irish bird. I love this album. Yeah, some of the songs have stupid little bits that I could do without (the hokey middle-eight in "I'm Not Down," the ugly chorus in the otherwise beautiful "Lost In The Supermarket," the entire track "Four Horsemen"), but spread across eighty minutes of tar, you hardly even notice the minor shortcomings! No, it's not punk rock, but it's just glorious. It's got this great song about snorting coke, and another one about Montgomery Clift, and ooh! That one about "working for the clampdown" with that neat chiming guitar thing at the end - that's killer, too. So great. "The Card Cheat" is a triumph. Goddammit, they're all triumphs! You can't even tell which ones are the covers, they're so great! Purchase it!

But, and I mean this as a valid warning - you gotta like happy pop music or you'll despise this record. Of course, you also have to like Joe Strummer's voice, which immediately eliminates about 9/10ths of all happy pop music fans, but those remaining 15 or 20 of you - look out, Tokyo!!!!

Black Flag - Damaged - 1981

Rollins makes his full-length debut with a yelp and a scream. A 45-minute scream. It's difficult to believe he wasn't born with this thundering speed noise behind him, he sounds so darn at home retching out lines like "I don't wanna live! I wish I was dead!" and "Depression! It's gonna kill me!" Harnessing a brand new colorless and hoarse-beyond-belief yell attack, Henry "Rollie" Rollins "Fingers" absorbs himself completely into Greg Ginn's newly-psychotic pain-oriented hardcore and, with Ginn's guitar work at its finest here, the crap is awfully compelling. The guitar just thrashes out screaming fits of relentlessly ugly rage, like an air raid siren gone haywire or an old man gone to Florida for a quiet weekend.

And those lyrics, hooeee. These words paint the portrait of a truly sick young gent. His mind spits and spurts, like a bunch of loose electrical wires snapping around looking for a connection - anything to keep from falling completely over the edge and crashing to the ground. I mixed three different metaphors in one sentence. Thanks for not smoking my sausage. Oh ho sure, the humor of "Six Pack" and "TV Party" try to lighten the mood, but there's just no lightening a mood created by songs like "Depression," "No More," "Life Of Pain," and "Damaged (Parts I and II)." An unbelievably great punk record and far from "generic," as the Spin Record Guide so sillily calls it. No hardcore bands were this darned emotional. Even though the emotions are pretty much limited to hatred and self-loathing, it still comes across as incredibly REAL, thanks to Mr. Rollins. It kinda grabs you and pulls you in - until the very end of the record when the guitar noise suddenly disappears, concluding a 45-minute psychotherapy session with a midtempo drum line and a barely-intelligible Rollins rasping "Nobody comes in! Damage. My damage. NO ONE COMES IN! STAY OUT!!!!"

Wow. Or "wos," as I accidentally typed the first time. Without self-reference, there is no enlightenment. And just so you know what you're getting yourself into, the album cover features a harrowing shot of Rollins staring sullenly at his bald reflection in the mirror, barely visible through the web of cracks he has just created with his right fist. Damage.... Enjoy it. It was their heyday. And now it's time for a Payday!Dame

Jello Biafra - Machine Gun In The Clown's Hand - 2002

Among the world's population, there are those who consider me a fool for giving Dead Kennedys singer Jello Biafra's spoken-word albums such high ratings. They argue that he does nothing but quote left-wing propoganda as if it were truth, without coming up with any opinions of his own. They chide me about his arrogance and enormous sense of self-worth (as evidenced on this CD by the disgustingly high-and-mighty conclusion, "Lots of people come up to me and say, 'You changed my life'! Maybe.... but now it's YOUR turn."). They accuse him of ripping off his own band members for two decades, then bald-facedly asking fans to donate their money NOT to humans right causes NOR to charities for the poor, but to the "Alternative Tentacles Legal Defense Fund" (because it's YOUR fault he lost the DKs back catalog, and without your help, there won't be any more Pachinko cds). They even casually mention Jello's ongoing attack on Tipper Gore who, by all accounts, has supposedly helped the needy a hell of a lot more than Jello has (In addition to charity work, I'm told that she donated all earnings from her book Picture This to the National Health Care for the Homeless Council).

But why look at the glass as half-empty when it is clearly only 49.7% empty? Even if Jello isn't the perfect liberal saint we all dreamt he would be, his spoken word albums DO bring important information and ideas to lots of people (myself included) who don't have time to click through every leftist webzine in the world in an ongoing fruitless search for "the Truth." (Did Scully and that scab ever find it, btw? I stopped watching the show shortly after the movie answered every question I've ever had about the conspiracy, completely depleting any interest I might have had in wasting an hour of my life every Sunday night when I could be praying). I've never been Mister Political by trade, but I've been keeping a close, vigilant eye on Washington (via those 3 or 4 daily headlines on Yahoo) ever since the terrorist things happened, and yikes is this a many-flavored society of lies and cover-ups in which we are dwelling. If Jello doesn't tell the kids, who will? Certainly not Henry Rollins, who'd rather talk about buying condoms at Rite-Aid and how cool Jesus is. And beyond those two, there aren't any punk spokespeople!

Except Tesco Vee, of course, who moderates regular C-Span debates on health care and social security.

This latest spoken-word triple-CD focuses on Bush's War Against Terror, with a few bonus tracks about the fake California energy crisis, Ralph Nader and the Ramones. You'll hear (A) things you already know! (B) things you didn't know! and (C) things that aren't true! Unfortunately, it's completely up to you to figure out which of Jello's bold facts come from reputable sources and which are just bullshit funnelled down through the Leftist Grapevine. It's also up to you to somehow find cleverness in such satirical personal affronts as "John Ashcrack," "Osama bin Werewolf" and "George Bushcraft." These things I cannae do for thee. I can only invite you to listen, nod your head knowingly and use Jello's words as a starting point -- a launchpad, if you will, from which you can take certain concepts and conduct further research on them to find out if the world is as corrupt as Lard's lead singer claims (and believe me -- it IS).

So yes, if you can treat this album as a one-stop shop for post-9/11 leftist commentary while keeping in mind that every argument is one-sided and of questionable origin, you'll likely find it to be an incredibly interesting resource. I know I did! And you know me -- I don't find just ANYTHING interesting! (*stares at mousepad for 45 minutes, wondering how they made it squishy yet firm at the same time*)

Bad Brains - Black Dots - 1996

When I first read of the impending release of Black Dots, I must admit I was skeptical. Sure, Tropical Dots and Wild Berry Dots were still flying off the shelves like so much baked paper, but considering the dismal failure of the Hot Dots cinnamon experiment, I felt sure that the gumdrop division of Tootsie Roll Industries would shy away from such a controversial non-fruit flavor as licorice. Luckily it turned out to be a CD of early Bad Brains demos.

If you've never heard the early Bad Brains music, please do let me try to describe it for you. Guitarist Gary "Dr. Know (Hilarious Parody of the Debut James Bond Movie Title Dr. No)" Miller has a metallic tone and penchant for soloing, but plays so many speedy bar chords that it sounds like punk rock anyway. Drummer Earl Hudson plays a hundred billion miles an hour, but always in an interesting pattern with clever, difficult breaks, as if the typical 'doop-chick' punk beat is too simple to hold his interest. Bassist Darryl Jennifer certainly seems to play the bass perfectly well, especially during the otherwise boring reggae tracks. And I've been trying to figure out how to describe Paul "Ras Hailu Gabriel Joseph I" D. "H.R." Hudson's voice for days now. See, at times he sounds like a man with an idiosyncratic, soulful voice singing a song, but other times he sounds like an insane dwarf midget baby screaming and bawling at you from a crib made of nails and battery acid. By the way, if you're interested in a crib made of nails and battery acid, be sure to click on the ad at the bottom of this page. Also, the Beach Boys sound a lot better if you listen to them in a timeshare beach house. And don't even get me STARTED about waving a country's flag while listening to Black Flag! I mean, holy fucking BALLS!

Although just a demo recording that sat unreleased for decades and a year, Black Dots is a phenomenal look at the band's early momentum, during the period when they were playing quickly but not nearly as manically speedily as their first two albums as released. The strangest thing is that the bass is mixed as loudly as the (what I believe to be) two guitar tracks -- to the point where at times you can't even tell which is which! And this from a band that was formed by the goshdarn lead guitarist!? Who buried him in the background? Was it an untrained producer? And who buried him in the backyard? Was it a serial killer?

Unlike many other demo collections you might find in today's active demolitions marketplace, Black Dots is a must-own because hidden among these early run-throughs of classic material like "How Low Can A Punk Get?" and "Pay To Cum" are many, many rare and unreleased compositions. This otherwise unreleased material includes:

-- Some awrsome headbang speedpunkers, including "You're A Migraine," the astonishingly speedy title track, and the jokey "Just Another Damn Song" (featuring the touching HR ad lib "Aw, I'm gettin' tired!")

-- A bit of evil Iron Maideny NWOBHM ("At The Atlantis," "Send You No Flowers")

-- One of the band's rare 'actually halfway decent' reggae compositions, "The Man Won't Annoy Ya"

-- The sweet 60s soul shot "Why'd You Have To Go?," which is both atypical of the band and a really, really shitty song

-- What certainly sounds like a Sex Pistols stylistic parody entitled "Redbone In The City." HR even rolls his R's! (and by "R's," I mean "marijuana")

The remaining 8 songs were later reworked at speedier tempos for later records, but look at that - 8 rare songs for all you Bad Brains fans out there. And most of them are GOOD! Plus the recording has a very clean, bright sound (surprising for a long-forgotten demo of this vintage) and it's neat how the guitar (bass?) seems to keep falling just slightly out of tune in a disorienting, wobbly and unique way that may just be an audio illusion created by all the turtle wax sloshing back and forth through my ear canal. Or should I say, my "EAR-Y (Erie) CANAL!" HA HA! NO WAIT! I'VE GOT ANOTHER ONE!!! Maybe I should say my "LAKE EAR-Y (Erie)!!!!" HA AHAHAHH!!!!!!! NO HANG ON!!! It would be even hilariouser if I were to say my "EAR (ear)!!!!"

Say! Did I ever tell you about the time I crapped in my bathing suit at Best Friend Park? I may have, but it's always worth repeating. I was a young lad enjoying a fine day at the pool with my family when a sudden burst of coagulating stinkybrown started queasing through my midsection. I hurried like a light-footed nature deer to the men's room, entered a Stall of Love, and was horrified to find my bathing suit string all wet and knotted. Unable to contain my waste and lacking the common sense to simply pull the bathing suit over to one side and move my bowel through its leg hole, I instead sat in shame and stench, diarrheaing all over my handy trunks. Adding additional insult to insult, I then noticed that this Stall of Love lacked even a shred of toilet tissue! After about 10 minutes, a gentle black man heard my weeping and smelled my aroma, and asked if he might be of assistance. I remember my response as clear as if it were yesterday's daydream: "I pooped in my pants and there's no toilet paper in here!" And this brave man went to the front desk and brought me the papery cleaning agent so demanded by my chastised undercheeks and groin. Little good it did though, what with diarrhea tending to stick around for the duration of any given event. Eventually my brother came in to check on me, and reported the good news back to my anger-prone father, who called me all sorts and sundry of ill names as he untied my Poop Shorts, washed them out in the commodity, and sent me back to the pool, where I undoubtedly stank for the rest of the afternoon.

Say! Did I ever tell you about the time I got in trouble at school for peeing in the sink? Talk about your misha

G.G. Allin - Eat My Fuc - 1982

Ahhhh now THIS is Pr. GG Addams! Song titles, you demand like a child after a sweet sweet lollipop of life? I'm not in the mood for quotation marks at the moment, so caps will simply have to suffice: HARD CANDY COCK, I DON'T GIVE A SHIT, DRINK FIGHT AND FUCK, I WANNA FUCK YOUR BRAINS OUT, I'M GONNA RAPE YOU, FUCKIN' THE DOG, COCK ON THE LOOSE, CLIT LICKER, BLOW JOBS. And I suppose there are a few others, but they don't contain curse words, so what's the point? No point! That is my answer to everything at this point in our society, as we kill ourselves with the ozone layer and greenhouses.

GG made a quantum leap starring the highly-talented, meteoric young star Scott Bakula on this album, with his new band The ScumFucs kicking the shit out of the pussyass Jabbers, with distorted heavy guitars a-blarin', high-speed angry punk drums a-smashin' (audibly so, too!) and a healthy wad of scraggly phlegm cloggin' up GG's voicebox so, young as he still be, he sounds angry and urban instead of rural and stupid. This is punk rock! A few of the songs still sound like poorly advised bubblegum Ramones ripoffs (especially the disgusting sing-songy "I Wanna Fuck Your Brains Out" and "Teacher's Pet" - BLEAHEW~!), but most of the others are hard angry punk, so HEY WAIT A GODDAMNED MINUTE!!! "POORLY ADVISED"??? NOBODY ADVISED GG ALLIN, YOU FUCK. GG ALLIN DID EVERYTHING HIS WAY, YOU FUCK!!!! YOU AREN'T FIT TO LICK HIS FUKIN SHITT YOU DICK COCK SUCKER!!

Sorry about that, Reader Comments shoved me away from the keyboard to get in a few words. I'm back now. This is a really profane, violent, fun punk rock record that you'll get a real kick out of if you're into stuff like that. Hideous lead guitar work though (as bad as my work with the Low-Maintenance Perennials!) and a weird mix where the fuzzy guitars keep overloading and then disappearing when GG screams too loud (as bad as my work with the Low-Maintenance Perennials!). And the end of the CD features a great in-concert bit, with people in the crowd laughing and making fun of GG as he cusses them out (as bad as my work with the Hollyridge Strings Play The Hits Of The Low-Maintenance Perennials!).

Oh, I forgot. Gotta always talk about what GG looks like. Still young, but his hair is messier, he's grown a really stupid looking redneck mustache and he's going around with sunglasses in front of his eyes and no shirt on like a tough hick punk (which is weird considering he came from Boston. Hurm). On a funny note, this album nowadays is usually referred to as its initials E.M.F.. Isn't that a hilarity laugh? Remember that band E.M.F.? They were really good!

If ya like SHIT!

Agnostic Front - Warriors - Nuclear Blast 2007

Angolian Fromp are back and ready to PAR-DEE like Chef Boy-AR-DEE!!!!!

With the twin caveats that Vinnie Stigma seems like a nice guy and I don't want a bunch of skinheads to beat me up, I still must express disappointment in the new Agnostic Front CD. Although they've brought back the speed that was missing from Another Voice, the songs are still hampered by uneventful slow 'mosh' sections, weird vocals, and chord changes so tied to the NYHC tradition that I feel like I've heard most of them twenty times already. I'd chalk it up to my twenty ears, but then Glenn Danzig would find out and write a song about me in 1982. Don't get me started about Glenn Danzig and his time machine.

The songs are driven by a mean and heavy guitar tone (not Epitaphy-smooth), the usual group-shout choruses, and lots of top-speed hardcore drumming, but the minimalist, hardly-there riffs (up a chord, down a chord, up a chord, down a chord) and predictable fast-slow-fast arrangements wear extremely thin after a while. "Addiction" is an absolute kickass opener and "Black And Blue" pleasingly sounds a lot like late-period Ramones, but the other dozen or so tracks range from standard but inoffensive NYHC to pointless midtempo exercises in non-songwriting. And sure we all like to do some pointless midtempo exercises every once in a while to keep fit, but Glenn Danzig seems to do them everyday, which is ridiculous.

There's still a bit of nostalgic back-slapping on display ("Never forget the Lower East Side crew!"), but the lyrics as a whole seem a bit angrier than usual, with titles like "Dead To Me," "Outraged," "Revenge" and "We Want The Truth." It's kinda hard to make out what Roger's saying behind that 17-year-old bulldog vocal inflection though, so he might just be talking about old Kiss and Sham 69 albums. And sure we all like to kiss and 69 girls named Sham every once in a while, but Glenn Danz

The bottom line is this: Agnostic Front have regained their power on Warriors, but not their hooks. It's like the old joke about Glenn Danzig going fishing:

Q. Why did Glenn Danzig go fishing without any hooks?

A. Because he was fishing for compliments! (after getting knocked unconscious by a fat guy live on the Internet)

Adolescents - Brats In Battalions - Triple X 1986

Rikk is Bakk!!

But now Frankk is gone! And Casey!? What happened to Casey!? My childhood dog was named Casey. He was a good boy. And he lived til the ripe old age of 17, long after I'd grown up and left home. Remember that time his blindness prevented him from sensing a low-hanging branch, so he stabbed himself in the eye and spent the entire night crying in pain, fear and isolation (being also deaf by that point) before being euthanized the next day? My father does! Often!

Frank has been replaced by yet ANOTHER Agnew (Spiro) and the new drummer is Sandy Hanson. Ha ha! No no, I'm kidding! Spiro Agnew served as the United States' Vice-President under Richard Nixon from 1969 through 1973! Then he joined the Adolescents in 1986.

Things first things: this aren't your Father's Adolescents. Although gallons better than the Maladolescenza of Welcome To Reality, Brats In Batallions doesn't sound a bit like the young gang of whippersnappers that recorded Adolescents half a decade earlier. In fact, some might argue that this midtempo metal/pop/punk band should have renamed itself "Young Men"! Ha ha! Do you get me? I'm a fascinating riddle! Also, singer Tony blew his voice out in The Abandoned and has returned with a scratchy-throat rasp/growl that sadly often comes across as a Metal Dude who can't sing. His hair's too long too, HIPPY!

I apologize for calling attention to your plump hips.

The main problem is that the band didn't write enough new material before entering the studio. As such, they were forced to fill space with (a) re-recordings of all three Welcome To Reality tracks, (b) two cover tunes, and (c) a shitty two-chord song dating back to their earliest demo. This leaves only seven new compositions -- five of which are honestly fantastic songs! It starts strong, with a diverse quadruple-shot of great material (killer '70s rock riff at punk speed "Brats In Battalions," Government Issuey emotional rock song "I Love You," growly anti-Reagan punk-metal "The Liar" and a VASTLY improved re-recording of trudgey metalloid "Things Start Moving") and ends with a turbo-speed Stooges cover and the brilliant goth/punk/metal/Spanish/jazz construction "She Wolf." Unfortunately, of the seven 'middle' tracks, ONE is any fucking good at all.

Yes, "Peasant Song" is a lake of shiny harmonic bliss hidden deeply within an overflowing landfill of dopey pop-punk and awful metallic shit. And there has never, in the history of the verbalized noise, been a worse cover version of ANYTHING by ANYBODY than this version of "House Of The Rising Sun." Gross raspy voice, post-lame harmonica, lead "blooze" riffs - it stinks!!! Even after they switch to Ramones speed, it still stinks!!! And this is "House Of The Rising Sun" we're talking about! What would Eric Burdon say!? I tell you one thing -- it'd probably be incoherent. He's an alcoholic.

Also, I can't help but notice the seXXXy misspelling of 'Libya' in the lyrics sheet ("Watch the skies light up in Lybia tonight"). On a related note, did you see that MTV has a hot new movie coming out called How She Move? Good old urban culture, and its illiteracy.

If you have and love the first Adolescents album, I hate to say it but there are enough good songs on here to warrant a purchase too, if you can find it cheap enough. You may want to gouge out the middle half of the album and stomp on it, but the intro and conclusion are pure musical ore!