by Tim SheridanFast, cheap, and out of control. This is gutbucket thrash for the most jaded of teenaged parking lot dwellers. After just a few minutes of throbbing power chords and Wayne Static's drunken sailor bellowing you may be ready to end it all, yet there is an undeniable hook to the chunky gloom this band pours out. If that's how you feel, this could be right up your dead-end alley.