Drop the bomb Trump. C’mon you deranged orange shit gibbon. I fuckin’ dare you.
Once the dust settles we will just come out and party in the rubble to Buzzbomb. These guys are punk rock survivors who are more than able to provide the soundtrack to a brave new post apocalyptic world.
So on you go and throw whatever you want at them.
They will just keep coming back for more and that’s a promise and a fact rolled into one.
You just can’t keep them down.
Over the years they have outlived many of their heroes and peers, they have hung around as venues arrived with a bang and vanished with a whimper, and now here we are in the present and I would wager hard earned cash on them turning up battered and bruised as the house band for a post end of day’s party.
They are the sort of punk rock hooligans that are referred to as the real deal, and with Sixty Miles of Bad Road they have managed to take all those years of paying their dues and distilled it all down into a blast of modern sounding street punk par excellence .
It’s all killer and it shoves your filler where the sun doesn’t shine. There’s no slacking as the foot remains pressed hard down on the accelerator from start to finish.
This is ultimately a refreshing release because it has no faux pretence to be anything other than a celebration of punk and roll in all its wide and varied forms. From the Clash to Social Destruction, to The Ramones to Dead Kennedys, from old school thrashing to pop punk melodies, the influences keep being signposted as we fly past them at a dangerously reckless speed.
It’s an exhilarating experience when you strap yourself in to listen to this one, and it sounds as if every gig that they have played, and every release that they have unleashed on the public, was simply building up to this moment.
It’s the climax of years of putting blood, sweat, and tears, into playing in a band.
Not bad really. Not bad at all.
