Everyone’s favorite space-age mutant skate punks The
Spits are back with their long-awaited fifth album (selftitled,
as were the previous four) and these twelve new action-
packed songs of apocalyptic, fuzzed-out, over-driven
madness do not disappoint.
Going strong now for over fifteen years, smashing the
windows and tearing down the walls every time they roll
through town, these truly vicious visionaries have cooked
punk down to its most powerful base form, crawling like
Neanderthals through the muck and creating a flaming trail
of hits that’ll take quite a fit of dementia to ever forget. A
perfect distillation of punk’s original open-ended weirdness
and modern music’s serrated salvation, The Spits
have proven themselves to be no one to fuck with, over and
over again. True headliners, never to be followed and for
good reason.
One of the only modern bands to have several of their
songs covered by their contemporaries, The Spits have already
done so much but still have so much more ahead,
as they continue to influence anyone with a penchant for
irresistible punk music, played like there’s nothing to lose.
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