I seem to recall the last record I reviewed from these goofy chaps as being a hokey, countryfied, fake-ass punk hoedown that I surprisingly totally loved the absolute shit out of. Although it seems like they have hit the acid pretty hard since we last met, I still love it, even though I realize that it makes no sense that I do. Opening your record with an instrumental surf number, throwing around lazer noises all willynilly, monosyllabic wailing, with album art that looks like a modern take on Rip Off Press (but from space). Cowboy-hat-wearing, reverb-drenched country punk is something that I would absolutely adore to make fun of, but just like their earlier output, this is surprisingly fun as fucking hell. This comparison might only affect about twenty five readers, and they would most certainly all be as old and as Southern as I am, but try and imagine a modern take on early DASH RIP ROCK, but punk enough that you wouldn’t be ashamed of it, or have to explain your adoration of it to your kids. Sorry, but this is good.