Just under thirty minutes of “you just got your ass handed to you.” The first handful of tunes blaze like Lemmy’s secret punk band, and it all reminds me of the Supersuckers’ on-messageness; y’know, they’ve only got one song, but it’s a really good one. But then Zeke start flipping the pillow with some slower, stonerish fuckery. At first, I was actually a little disappointed since I grew up on meth as opposed to Vicodin. Then I realized the Vicodin was taking the edge off the meth, and I was in a perfect state of mellow wiredness. Or something. And then Zeke go back to chopping really fat lines of crank, and I end up ordering “just ice water” at the IHOP. Or something. I’m positive this band absolutely owns live; since I never go to shows, I was compelled to down about eight Pabsts and start throwin’ around my cheapass Joe Weider weights. I definitely pulled something.

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