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“Next we
raid the beverage bar,Relax, unwind, impair your judgement,
Guarantees comfort, once you’ve had a few,How else do you think we can
tolerate each other” – V.I.P.
 Hardcore
New York street
screechers The Casualties at least have as much spirit and suss as they
have sugared water keeping their regulation Mohawks up on end. Such
perfectly uniformed punks with manicured manifestos preaching answers and
anarchy with requisite anger while typecasting themselves into a
corrupting clique all too often dribble out of your deck as some
sub-Discharge / GBH donkey droppings shouting into a disused drainage
system. And while it’s as true as termites having a taste for trees that
much of our societies resemble such an overflowing sewage system it’s also
sure as shit in soup that The Casualties spread the stories squeezed into
cracks in the pavement with the force of a subway train. I’m sure the
score is a well-worn one, but where the songs are so fast it’s kinda like
trying to spot that person you saw once in the pub the other week on that
crowded subway as it shudders past you they skilfully shunt in songs,
which is really the main point here, such as on the smokescreen clearing
street anthems ‘System Failed Us Again’ and ‘Social Outcast’. That they
also chuck some Fast Eddie Clarke era Motorhead speed punk boogie chugs
into the pit spoiling for a fight (namely the title track) and Jorge sings
like he’s desperate to say what he has to say before the CIA slowly
suffocate him into silence lends this record the conviction and passion
that threatens to staple itself to your forehead and contaminate the water
supply. Rabble-rousing rebel-raising stigma from the sidewalks.
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