Judging an album from the cover, I thought we’d probably be in for some more punk. And we are, but it’s actually pretty good. With 14 songs in 15 minutes, this is heading into superfast hardcore territory. BamBamBam and the song is done – the “longer” tracks at around a minute and a half actually seem stretched out in comparison to the rest of the album, so concise are the tunes on here.
I was surprised, because I was expecting some kind of death-metal growlings, at how clear the mix is, with vocalist Keith Morris delivering the words loudly but clearly, over the top of the expected thrumming bass, thrashing drums, and double/treble/quadruple-time guitar power chords.
And despite the simplicity of the lyrics, they manage to pack a fair mix of anger and humour into them. Beverley Hills throws Holden Caulfield style scorn at the empty people of LA’s suburbia:
“Beverly Hills, Century City
Everything's so nice and pretty
And all the people, they look the same
But don't they know they're so damn lame”
It seems so quaint and polite by comparison to some bands, all teenage rebellion from somebody that was raised in a nice family and never really wanted for anything. While the Circle Jerks may opine in World Up My Ass that:
“Society is burning me up
Take a bite,
Spit it out
Take their rules
Rip 'em up,
Tear them down”
compared to the biting commentary of some of the British bands, even UB40, it feels rather shallow.
However, the album can’t be faulted for its brevity. The entire album is shorter than a single track on a prog-rock album, and ushering in a voice for rebellious youth – it feels like it should be associated with skateboarding, I found it all rather enjoyable, even if it does mean I now have a searchable term in this blog for "Group Sex". *Somebody* will be disappointed.
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