Some pretty strong stuff here, reminiscent of early to mid-L.A. hardcore. Lyrics aren’t too painful and there’s enough conviction in their delivery as to make it believable. Impressive. If they manage to stay on course, they may become a personal fave.

The Gravedigger V decide to form a power pop band based on the sound forged by the Stones in the early '60s. Hey, that’s what it sounds like to me.

I'd put NYC's Even Worse right in league with San Francisco's The Avengers and East LA's The Brat. Female-fronted, early, genuine American punk with a fire under its ass. It's funny because the only single I had of theirs was nothing like this – it was a lot more serious and thoughtfully attempted to deconstruct punk rock, had Thurston Moore (later to go to Sonic Youth) playing guitar, and although pretty darn good, I enjoy the brash enthusiasm, snotty bounce, and female singing on this retrospective. Even Worse flexes their muscles through twenty-six songs, including their anthem, "We Suck," and pounds through both a Weirdos cover, ("Solitary Confinement") and a Black Flag cover ("Nervous Breakdown"). Keep in mind, these bands were contemporaries, along with others, like Kraut and Adrenaline OD. It just goes to show how much more level the playing field was twenty years ago, and how excited bands were to realize that others, such as themselves, had come to the same aural conclusions at approximately the same time. The cornerstone to keeping Even Worse's legacy alive – and providing excellent, comprehensive liner notes – is their drummer, Jack Rabid, who continues to publish The Big Takeover zine twenty odd years down the road. This CD is split in half – the first is the never-released, "lost" studio LP followed by a healthy set at Max's Kansas City in August, 1981. What a pleasant surprise. This'll get a lot of spins. Someone should release it on vinyl.

I keep hearing all these latent grunge-isms creeping into various punk rock formats. What the fuck is up with that??? I mean, this is DEFINITELY supposed to be "street punk," or whatever the fuck that which was called "street punk" twenty-four months ago is now known as, but i swear to fucking GOD i hear ample grunge contamination herein. Boy, call me crabby, but all i hear here (note: that was a particularly clever reference to a Hollies album title) is Mountain Dew® commercial music waiting to happen, likely snuck under the radar screen by presumed connection to the marginalized! For the cry-yi! This band is at their best – AT THEIR BEST – when they merely kinda sound like Rancid knockoffs, at their worst when spouting dumb-as-death-metal gibberish like "last rights, my settlement, bestows its empty threats on all, but no one's here," and at their most disturbing when they LEGITIMATELY seem to be trying to rip off "Longview" on "East 14th." Lyrics include exciting subject matter such as "broken dreams." Why has no one thought of this before? I honestly hope that, for whatever lunatic reason, somebody at Lookout really felt passionate about this band, because all i'm hearing is a band who got signed on the off chance that they might become the next big thing, and it'd be kinda sad if that label wound up being run like a mutual fund or something. WORST SONG TITLE: "Last Rights"  BEST SONG: "Moving On"  FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA FACT: I can't remember what the UK equivalent to "Hear! Here!" was, but if i was forced to guess i'd say the third one.

Individually, inside the songs themselves, there's a lot going on. It's some very intricate, tightly constructed, thoughtful emotional hardcore that breaks down, filigrees (sometimes piano, sometimes violin), collects itself like a bomb that builds itself from the inside, and explodes open. The screaming and shouts come across as genuine, not shrill. End on End has definitely expanded from its early recordings and made a mold they can call more their own. And I can sit down and listen to a couple songs and get really energized, but then a weird thing happens. It's tough to get through the entire album. If I don't listen to it closely and deliberately, track by track, the album begins to sound the same. I can't figure this out, and I've listened to it over ten times, getting the same result. Huh.

Good lord, these guys keep on getting better and their LP is fantastic. (This 7" sounds a couple notches fuller, too.) They just seem so sure and strong in what they do, and your ass must be shot full of novocaine and your brain full of Vicodin if your butt doesn't wiggle along to the beat. Their power comes from each instrument fitting and everything's played with force, not merely tinkered with by a member enamored with the sound of a bleep. I sure see more people adopting new wave, but I've yet to hear one of the new crop that seems to have been born into it with such assurance. And it's so much better than an Adam Ant throwback because there's guitar snarl and a pounding drummer that's not programmed like a Casio. "Synthesized" is a perfect capsule of The Epoxies: tight songs, super sexy vocals, and limber guitar lines. A fuckin' rockin' cover of Alice Cooper's "Clones" rounds out the b-side.

High-energy rock’n’roll like the Swedes are into these days. Pretty loud, pretty over the top, pretty good.

Heavy, high-voltage rock’n’roll sure to leave your mom deaf and your neighbor pissed. As sweet and sincere as a solid blow to the testes.

Grindcore with all of the genre’s strengths and weaknesses painfully apparent.

Dark, moody punk/hardcore here from this legendary Bay area “skate” band. All the tracks are studio takes, meaning this is not a re-release of the live 10" out quite a while back. Am also led to believe that there was a guy from Tools/Sick Pleasure/Code of Honor in this group as well. This is a really good release on the whole, although I think many modern skate kids, with their penchant for safe, non-boat-rocking, cookie cutter Epitaph punk might be a little taken aback by this. Shame it didn’t come out back when it was recorded.

Three days of drinking, rabid fans, playing in your hometown, guest artists, and St. Patrick's Day is a recipe for a good recording session for a live release. Dropkick fans have probably already purchased this. For others on the fringes, this is a good sampler to get a taster. Their blend of street punk mixed with Irish pride has been accepted by many. Song after song, you can hear in the background that the music is embraced with passion by the audience on this recording. It shows that the band has reached the status and expertise of captivating an audience. In all its fun and glory, a fun listen.

Really noisy hardcore with grindy bits. Kinda makes me think this is what Conflict might’ve sounded like had they been just a tad more pissed.

The Distraction  grew on me slowly, but I'm glad I stuck with it. I disliked it in the beginning. At first, they sound like a slowed down Stitches, with a mumbly voiced lead singer fronting mid-tempo, repetitive songs. Also, like the Stitches, they're sneaky riff snatchers. They lift nice bits of The Clash and Buzzcocks, but have a real good feel on how to tuck them into their own compositions. But the more I listened, the better the songs started to sound. They're just like fresh snot on glass. They're nasty and boogery but the sound's clean and you can see every detail. This may seem off topic, but The Distraction does to true early punk what a lot of hip hop artists did with R and B tracks. Instead of doing direct samples, this OC crew take the best feel, motion, and groove of bands like the Boys and the Weirdos (without Doors covers, thank you very much) and join them in clever, finger snapping ways. So, when I stopped wanting them to play faster and enjoyed being locked into their groove, what was once repetitive became a solid slab of stagger and swagger. Another thing I realized is that although none of the songs sound like smash fuckin' hit singles, the album as a whole works very well. The 7" has one song that's on the album, "Transmission Ignition," and a track, "Nothin' to Me," that's worth doin' a little vinyl huntin' for. Thumbs up.

The promo sheet that came with this release sez, "The Diskords range in age from 12 to 14 years old. They all attend middle school together here in Portland, Oregon." If I had been in a band when I was thirteen, I'd have spent all my time trying to perfect the riff to "Smells Like Teen Spirit." That said, this is pretty good! Catchy, short, pop punky songs (think: a more poppy early Queers). And, come on! Twelve year-olds singing songs like "Cops Took Mommy Away"? Punk rock!

Diehard Youth break out with straightforward PosiCore from strangely enough, Tehachapi, CA, which is kinda odd because it’s pretty much the middle of nowhere. Anyway, this band sounds incredibly similar to Insted. Even the lyrical content runs in the same vain. The only difference is that this band adds more moshy elements to their music. For those who miss Insted. . –Mike Dunn

Really bad punk with piss poor recording values. Sounds like it was recorded on a ghetto blaster with the mics blown out.

Out of eighteen songs, only one is worth listening to. The rest are just cheap Queers imitations. Glad you guys have money to throw away. Must be nice. Next.

I really liked their second album, which was the first with the name Darlington, which was Queers/Ramonesy fodder saved by some brilliantly stupid lyrics rife with self-deprecating potshots at their obviously derivative sound. Everything else I’ve  heard, however, just hasn’t grabbed my attention in the same way, and this is no different. You can easily draw the same musical reference points, but, from what I can tell, the sense of humor that made them so initially attractive ain’t here, and the resulting record just doesn’t stand out from the HUGE pack of bands treading the same stagnant water. This is limited to three hundred and if you dig ’em you’ll dig this, but it did fuck all for me.

Okay, I know these guys have been around for a while. For some reason, I have never heard a note of their music before. After listening to this CD, I’m glad I haven’t. This shits sucks. It’s that really clean sounding, highly produced pseudo-punk that bands like Pennywise put out. I wouldn’t be surprised to hear this CD on a popular radio station soon. I hope this isn’t the music that has kept them around for twenty years. When the lead singer puts on his “pretty voice” for the ballad, “Broken Days,” I think I am going to hurl. Damn, I don’t think I can make it through this whole CD, or to the toilet, for that matter.

Pretty run-of-the-mill youth crew drivel. Thankfully, they keep the metal way in check, but there’s really nothing there to set them apart from a very large herd. Includes a Youth of Today cover. How original.

I think this is leftover from that pile of shit Jimmy and Todd sorted through in issue nine. This sounds like a fucking lullabye. It’s horrid. How does this shit end up at Razorcake HQ? Hell, how does it end up on a CD, is a better question. You guys lasted thirteen seconds into crap like this? You are better men than me.

Methinks there's as many as three different "what we should have the band sound like" fingers in Crimson Sweet's pot. I've come up with a loose slide rule. The less psychedelic, the more I like them. Slow, I actually like the grooves they set – there's an attention to atmosphere that has me convinced that they understand the inner workings of Velvet Underground songs. They also nail a perfect cover, which would make a great single: Silverhead's (no, not Silverchair) "Hello New York." Their version and songs like "Airport Novel," and "So Electric," are downright fun, swaggering NYC pizza-sized slices of poppy, glammy punk. But, when the songs get trippy, almost jam-tacular, like the meandering last song, "Sad Walk at Knifepoint," I find myself getting sleepy and not so enthusiastic. Some great songs, but a spotty long listen.

I think this is my new favorite album of the week. This is a re-issue of their debut album from ’94. It’s been completely remastered and they’ve added three bonus tracks (two GG Allin covers.) Bands should take a lesson from them: this was originally recorded for ninety-seven dollars in under three hours. And it blows away a large portion of what’s been recorded since. It’s loud as hell (which should come as no surprise since their bass player created the Confederacy of Scum), full of sleaze, and is just downright nasty. I love it. This is the kind of music your mother worries about you listening to, with good reason.

More thick-necked jocks who think “hardcore” is a term interchangeable with “lame-assed, big-muscled, small-dick macho metal”? Or, as they say in the motherland, this is absolute mierda.

This CD, literally, fell behind my CD player and it wasn't until I added more milk crates to the front room record wall, that I found it again, so I can't rightly say when I got it, but unlike a giraffe, this stuff isn't spotty at all. I haven't been so up on the newest Snuff releases, and, oddly, singer for The Chase sounds pretty much like a hardcore Duncan. Actually, they take a lot of the best elements of Snuff – an achingly sweet and catchy melody and they tweak it into some short, satisfying, moshy breakdowns. Instead of veering into a poppunk arena with horns, these guys take some pages from Sweden's Get Up and Goer's: melodic hardcore that isn't afraid of a lot of volume, speed, and screaming. Extra points go to the song titles: "Surprise Party at the Funeral Home," and "Can I Borrow a Headband?" Surprisingly good.