We have full-out rawness on this EP, with skronk guitar, pounding drums, a horn section, adenoidal teen frenzy vocals that take no prisoners. It's as if the Seeds evolved into a band capable of hitting the airwaves with all their ten-thumbed directness, with a bit more in the song department than they had later on. Or as if the early Fugs cleaned up their act. . .
Well, it's more than that. But it's freaking good for being so bad, do you know?
Has the time passed for this sort of punk-garage? Not when it's as convincing as this.
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