When Greg Shaw says there was no scene or outlet for this garage stuff, he’s most likely right, so we oughtta thank him for comin’ up with the Voxx thing.
Plays like blacklight fractured genius. Part Nuggets adulation, a healthy dose of Cramps style un-repentant psychosis, all lathered with oozing sexual whatsis.
While there’re songs I like better then those chosen to represent the bands, that might just clue ya into the fact I own a fuckload of Epitaph’s records.
Dwarves may have matured in terms of production and musicianship, but spiritually, they’re true to their roots. There isn’t a throwaway track on this record.