The Tape. There’s a name! Here’s “The Review”: Side A’s a collection of little-size rex by this tight, high-strung pack of German malcontents, some of whom are pals of the Henry Fiat thing. Kapooey! goes the sound of these slam-beckoning box-riffs. They choose topics… like hating widdle kids… and cholesterol… then they sing (sometimes in anthem form) about the shit over pentatonic rock-roll jammers. And that’s what they do. Excited??!! Riff-2nd riff-riff-2nd-riff-other-little thing… truly the synthesis of short-attention-span punk from the Ramone/Angry Samoan germ to fruitful growth bearing sustenance for this hyperactive age. Sound department: clean and crunchy and choppy. Up and down and up and down pogos the Euro-interpretation of Americano punk-graduating-to-hardcore, ringing out the little mistakes since grown men don’t have to put themselves through that sorta’ thing. Get me? A very even, linear projection of head-bobbing no-payoff riffage and wide-eyed throat-inverters that seems standard with them across the pond, though “Real Good Stereos (But No Place to Go)” has a pretty epic finale worth a few listens. Side B’s more of the same, this time live at Side Two studios in Bahston with a Reagan Youth cover in tow, displaying just as infallibly tight-knit a sound with a rougher edge and the smug almost-aggro feel of their racial kin the Regulations. PUNK. (BG)

Review from Terminal Boredom

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