With the exception of “Dead End Job,” nothing here is much to write about. Snarly punk, but if you have Nobodys’ other records, you’ve got better than this.
Look at ‘m as a less bombastic Creed. Real pro playing, mixing, production, the big vocal treatment with that aggravating post-Vedder “sensitive manliness.”
This is their debut full-length. Let’s gather around Midtown and give them a big group hug of support (and whisper to drop the Bon Jovi influence… or else).
Something’s gotta be said for a record that kicks off with a ditty entitled “Comin’ Home (Smoking Pot On a Sunday Afternoon While UFO’s Drone Overhead).”
I guess the stealing from the source-recordings and bein’ ugly lends authenticity, tho’ authenticity’s a loada shit, ‘specially when the Stones are invoked.
I loved Lock Up the moment I heard rumors about their existence. I didn’t even need to hear the band to know what was in store: heart-warming grindcore.