This disc is simply loaded with attitude, both lyrically and in terms of its delivery, due in no small part to the raspy, smart-ass vocals of Eleanor Whitledge.
Where other bands mellow, ripen and rot with age, the thirtywhatevers of Boston’s finest keep getting harder, rougher, and snarlier with every release.
Opening with “I Wanna Live,” with its easy-anthem chorus, the album slides into the giggling, Tourette’s Syndrome, cock-in-pocket swing romp of “Pussy Walk.”