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Oh, Total Punk. The most unstoppable, consistent label in punk rock strikes again with yet another killer album of some of some of the best, purest punk rock n’ roll around. Seriously, whoever is in charge of that label is so on-point that it’s ridiculous. This time, they’re bringing your ears the newest set of tunes from Minnesota’s slop-punk kingpins The Sleaze, the troublemakers behind the immortal “Smokin’ Fuckin’ Cigs.” Thank god these four men, these kings of snotty-as-fuck punk rock are back again to blow out your speakers. Whatever “it” is, these guys have it in spades. Something about this shit really gets me going; on the surface its grimy, drunken, in-your-face garage-punk that wouldn’t sound out of place sharing bills with The Electric Eels, The Dead Boys, or The Rip Offs, but there’s something else going on underneath it all that makes it so much more than just a rehash of old sounds; no, The Sleaze must have subconsciously tapped into the wellspring of raw rock n’ roll. Something about it must have to do with them being from the Midwest; I get the feeling that these guys were just born to play punk rock and that’s why, almost 40 years after this music developed, it can still sound so natural and un-contrived in their hands. The album blows by in only 17 minutes, and it’s so easy to just keep putting it on over and over. Something about it just makes sense, even how they begin and end the album with two versions of the same song, “Tecktonik Girlz.” On an album this short and uniformly strong, picking highlights is tough, but if I had to, these two versions of the title track, the insanely catchy and bouncy “Birdies,” and the ridiculously titled “Big Azz Buttz” are all garage-punk gold. Pick it up and get stupid.

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