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.