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Below are some recently posted reviews.

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1983-1993: 2 x CD
Know dick about these kids, and this is one of those instances where the internets ain’t any help at all, so here’s what I can glean from the piddling amount of info that accompanies this: They were from Sweden, they had a fondness for the rock’s danker corners, and this is a compilation of assorted EP, LP, and demo recordings dropped onto tape at various points during the decade identified in the title. The hands-down best stuff here are the tracks from their first release, the Pinnen Rullar Till Peking EP—five tunes of dark-tinged punk/hardcore that immediately sets the band up with their own voice and apart from the more standard/rote thrash-o-rama that ruled the roost when it was originally released in 1985. From there, though, it’s a bit of a mixed bag. On the one hand, their explorations in what I guess would now be called “goth” musical memes shows a band willing to push themselves a bit and experiment in sandboxes outside the one they first stepped in. On the other hand, their opting to marry those experiments to a more conventional “rock” sound puts a damper on what might’ve been some seriously interesting sounds  with a bit more abrasiveness and left-turns into wholly uncharted territories. I dunno if five brilliant tunes out of twenty-six are worth the hunt and the green, especially if one manages to find a copy of that first EP all by its lonesome at a respectable price, but good tunes they remain, and hell, maybe the next punter that picks this up’ll appreciate their later goth-rock stylings a bit more. –jimmy (Massproduktion)

Pop Up Yours!: CD
There’s something about this particular Lightning Beat Man project that makes it especially dear to my blackened little heart. Is it the name? The over-the-top mix of punk-garage-freakout-mondo-gloriously-fucked-upness? Dunno. Likely all of the above. What I do know is that when a tune like “Blow Um Mau Mau,” which, not coincidentally, is the sum total of the lyrics as well as the title, comes along, I reflexively crank the stereo up loud enough that people two states over are covering their ears. Theirs is a special brand of rockin’ ass-kickery that transcends stereotypes and pigeonholes and demands your full attention. –jimmy (Voodoo Rhythm, voodoorhythm.com)

The Good Life: LP
This is a German band with English singing; it’s on the modern hardcore tip with appealing screamed and raspy vocals. MNMNTS is certainly dark and cerebral with discordant post punk influences and somewhat challenging songwriting alternating between mid- and rapid tempos. However, they manage to muster a catchy chorus now and again and the complexity never gets overbearing and off putting. Recommended to those with bands like Gallows, Converge, and Botch in their record collections. –Jake Shut (Adagio830, adagio830.de)

Split: 7”
Mean Jeans: Continually remind me of kids at school who did everything to look like they didn’t give a fuck, didn’t pay attention, clowned all the time, but, in reality, were some of the smartest people in the room. Although they’d never admit it when anybody else was around. So if they’re painted by others with the Keystone Kops, Bug Bunny, Ramones tri-colored brush, that’s fine, but that’s just the brightly lit side of the portrait. Another great song because being this dumb and this catchy is much harder than it looks, even if you’re sitting in the front row. Hollywood: Perhaps “I Prefer Drugs” isn’t the best introduction to them. It could go either way. It could go in a Midnight Evils direction with balls so big that their scrotes have calluses on ‘em. It could go in a, “Wow, that schtick became a noose” direction of Nashville Pussy. Too small of a dose to make a prognosis. Cover features the weird-lookin’ dude from The Room. –todd (Big Neck)

Self-titled: 7”EP
Remember the first time you huffed glue with paint? That fuzzy oval of silver around your mouth and nose from the bag? Before the severe brain damage? Yeah. Good times in the garage. That’s where the Maxines come in with their hollow-body-sounding, ragged-crunchy, fuzzed-out, Cramped-up-funfest. Billy Childish and Hasil Adkins nod and twitch and milkshake and Hunch in approval. Gritty Patsy Cline twists out a cigarette with the heel of her shoe and dudes are biting their palms. Two piece. Featuring Matt Murillo of the Jewws (Razorcake #11) and a lady who graduated college and didn’t get all loadie on aerosols. Put out by the folks who were at the tip of the Tranzmitors rocket. Top that. Nice. –todd (La-Ti-Da, info@latidatrecords.com, latidarecords.com)

Going Clubbin’: 7”
Ridiculous concept band, complete with costumes and a polar bear? Check. Over the top, fairly inappropriate jokes, involving “The Clap” and baby seal clubbing (which I can only hope is a dual reference to one of my favorite Brain Fellow moments on SNL)? Check. And songs that hold the whole thing together, by being equally fun and rocking? Check. Give me something fun like this over any boring “serious” band any day. –todd (It’s Alive)

Whatever I Want / Whenever I Want: LP / LP
Accentuated by Mark Sultan’s incredibly soulful voice, these two simultaneously released records contain some of the best songs you’re bound to hear this year. Sultan’s music is timeless. He pulls from Sun rockabillys, Stax/Atlantic soul singers (LaVern Baker), gospel singers (Sister Rosetta Tharpe), and hardcore punk. His knowledge of music is vast. What makes Mark such an effective artist is that he refuses to self-consciously pigeonhole himself into any scene. The titles of these records aren’t misnomers: Sultan’s the real deal. Whatever I Want and Whenever I Want were recorded by Mark with the aid of his Montreal friends over the past year. The caliber of songwriting is flooring. Like the late Gene Clark, Mark jumps from genre to genre. But whereas Clark took a whole album to develop a style, Sultan takes on several genres on just one side of vinyl. That’s not to say that Mark’s songwriting has the intuitiveness or inventiveness of Clark’s (it doesn’t), but I place his work in the same league. Certainly Doc Pomus would’ve appreciated Mark. Praise aside, with these releases a few things are becoming more apparent. Mark Sultan hasn’t come any closer to working with a full band. Sure, Sultan’s pals Choyce and Annie Sexareeno make a few appearances. But in terms of having a regular group to help with song development, Mark has elected to go through the process largely on his own. I can’t say this is entirely fruitful; most of Whatever I Want’sbest moments come when Mark works with outside help: check Matteo Bordin’s great bass lines on “Calloused Hands” or Choyce’s James Burton-inspired solo on “Blood on Your Hands.” (Choyce is one hell of a guitar player.) Mark Sultan is apparently only able to work with In The Red Records—at least for any sustained period of time. (Whatever I Want includes a juvenile dig in the liner notes at perceived enemies.) I think this works to his benefit. I have a lot of faith in In The Red, so much so that I’ve never listened to a post-ITR Jay Reatard or Black Lips record. The amount of artistic freedom Sultan receives from Larry Hardy is something he must value. Nevertheless, I’m at a point now where I’m getting a little frustrated with Mark’s albums. Again, they’re amazing. But it’s on a track like “Livin’ My Life”—with its cleaner production and fuller arrangement—that we get a glimpse of what a full band can do with one of Sultan’s songs. A whole album recorded in that environment would likely reveal Mark’s work at its best. I have a lot of faith in Sultan. And I’m still waiting for that well-rounded record that’ll completely destroy everything else and turn everyone into Mark Sultan fans (which they should be already). –ryan (In The Red)

Extended Family: CD
Named after a character in the first Godfather flick (or a cool deli in Hoboken—just kidding), these dudes are from the wilds of Tasmania, Australia. Gritty, angular punk with intelligible lyrics. Holy shit, what a rarity these days. Well thought out arrangements and memorable songs make this one stand out. Make your own conclusions about what these guys have been listening to, but give it a fair shake. Loudest thing to come out of Tasmania since that devil dude. Look for the “Daiquiri” version of this record when they tour your town. Nice shot out of the gate, boys. –koepenick (Broken Bones)

Spiritual Treatment: 12” EP
There seems to be a buzz building for this band, though I think it’s premature. Having seen them live and listening to this record, I think they have what it takes, but aren’t quite there yet. Musically, they’re on the heavy and noisy side of things. The instrumental, “Opfer,” is a slow, dirgey hulk of sound: repetitive riffs that border on hypnotic, with distortion bleeding in and out of every crack. The first half of “Controlled Chaos” is a ripper, then they lose it on the second when they go for the slower, punishing side. What they really should have stayed clear of was covering Neanderthal’s “Crawl.” It lacks the low end and venom of the original. Low Places are at their strongest playing their originals and when they go for the speedier side, as that’s where their music has more power and a near-painful punch. –Matt Average (A389, a389records.com)

Split: LP
LKN says “These songs are all (save but one) insta-sketches… So that’s the story of this record, all a bunch of insta-sketches, not worked out, worked over, or punched-in, etc. just the bare bones the seed of an idea, a page in artist’s sketchbook...” What a fucking pretentious asshole! Who fucking does that? Why would you admit such a thing? Is it because they think they shit gold or are they making excuses for putting out a crappy record? Never mind all that, you say. “What does it sound like?” It sounds like a music school snob wanking... fuck it! It sounds like a crappy record put out by someone who thinks they shit gold. But that’s only half the record, Knife The Symphony plays the other side and they play post rock. Or is post hardcore? Or math rock? It all blends together in my mind because I’m from Louisville, Kentucky, which is one of the towns that helped pioneer this sort of sound. It was into this type of stuff back then when it was fresh and I was more open to new things and wanted music that sounded unique and challenging. At this point in time, this kind of music isn’t unique or challenging; it’s boring and forgettable and I’m old and just want to rock! There’s an interesting time change for you. –Craven (Phratry)

Yeah Buddy: : CD
The forty-seven-point-five minutes of music contained herein has led me to contemplate what Mick Farren & The Deviants might have sounded like had they been heavily influenced by Sloppy Seconds. This, in turn, prompted me to contemplate time travel as regards bands, and reminded me how important it is, when time traveling, to plug your ears when you arrive, so you don’t hear anything cool that you might track back to your own time as an influence, and thereby alter the course of history. I’m with ‘em thru the first seven songs or so, but when they get into the six-minute-song territory, then i start to imagine what it would be like if Rock Bottom & The Spys and I Love Rich influenced The Quick, and i can only conclude that, somehow, this must have happened, and the course of history has therefore been altered without my awareness—so i clearly need to take along better earplugs when time traveling. BEST SONG: “Banned from the Block,” as it’s the most rollicking, and rollickingness is often given short shrift in modern music appreciation. BEST SONG TITLE: “Showdown at WookieLake,” although if it’s supposed to be “Wookiee” like in Star Wars, then they forgot the second “e.” Or possibly the first. FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA FACT: The topless porno model who adorns the disc’s cover and graphic has had her eyes manually blacked out by some ((presumably litigation-adverse)) Sharpie™-wielding artisan, but you can still see images of the un-sunglassed cover online. Crazy! –norb (Almost Ready)

Viva La Arthouse: CD
“At a time when everything was evergreen, evergreen and seemingly ideal/the nights turning into the days and we didn’t notice the change... and not a day goes by, that I don’t spare you a thought/not a day goes by...” I strongly remember Frankie Stubbs repeatedly belting out that last line the first time I saw them. Seeing this song performed live locked me in for twelve or so years of listening to Leatherface. It’s a reflection on lost love, thick with feeling, yet spare and somehow lacking sentimentality. I had no clue who Leatherface was before that show, but I knew I was seeing something special. And “Not a Day” remains my favorite song. There’s much to be said about Frankie Stubbs’ often-imitated throat-shredding vocals over the fast, thick walls of the band’s heavy melody. As well, as Stubbs’ odd, ever-recognizable, indescribable, guitar sound, the way the riffs drop in over the thundering force of the songs. If you’re listening to these songs alone, they take you further inside yourself, introspective, yet relieving. If you’re listening to these same songs at a show, the crowd turns into a united force singing along, with arms around strangers as if you knew them your whole life. There’s a reason for this. It’s because Leatherface has tapped into something so intrinsic to struggle and life that the songs work like a medicine over weary and battered souls. Their songs don’t offer hope, not as a band-aid, nor in the almost fundamentalist catchphrase way that you’ll hear the word today. They don’t offer hope at all. They are hope. A constantly relevant hope, because they continue to write songs that hit you where you are.I lived here last summer we could smell the drains/While we watched the stinking flies eat what they could find/Well it was all so nice a peasant in paradise/And we will remember this we got burned and never realized,” go the lyrics to “Peasant in Paradise.” When I hear this, I think of an angry man living in some slum, lashing out about the state of his existence. Later on the album is Stubbs belting out “We don’t make bargains and don’t deal with markets/and I want the moon.” It’s a steadfast, unfaltering statement of individuality and earnestness that makes any youth crew or oi song seem temporal and insulting. Leatherface is not glassy-eyed positivity, nor are they nihilistic. They are always sharply and often sadly, realistic. They’re irritable and pissy, but also warm and embracing. Their songs don’t tell you it how it is; they are with you about how it is. Hope is just a feeling and one that passes—like happiness or love—replaced with a season of despair and self-doubt, or as they put it “days and days of sour grapes.” Leatherface’s songs aren’t marches or anthems, nor do they wallow in the mire. It is the pure piss and bile of what it is to live in these times, or in any time. But they have just as much a deep appreciation for small pleasures and fleeting love. Leatherface will always be relevant because they cut through the bullshit to the very core of resistance. They cover every part of life and give us, if not the hope, the strength to hunker down for a long, dirty struggle. –Craven (No Idea)

I Bleed Rock’n’Roll: CD
If there is a true believer in the power of rock’n’roll, it is Kepi. He is like a punk John the Baptist, proselytizing for the likes of Lemmy, Johnny Thunders, Chuck Berry, and Joey Ramone. Having seen him live—both with the Groovie Ghoulies and in various solo incarnations—his shows can almost start to feel like some kind of punk rock revival. Things start on his newest with “Rock’n’Roll Shark” the album’s pounding, minimalist, mission statement. It is the pop punk “New Day Rising.” Since Kepi’s Ghoulies days, he has stretched his wings ever so slightly musically and started incorporating things like acoustics and actual guitar leads. The song “I Bleed Rock’n’Roll” probably has more non-rhythm guitar work than any two Ghoulies albums put together. For the most part, though, he still keeps things pretty simple. Most of the songs follow a speeded-up Chuck Berry template, and lyrically deal with two things: love and rock’n’roll. My personal pick is the sort of interlude in the middle of the album, where things slow down for the thirty second acoustic “Unfigureoutable” and extremely direct but endearing “I Just Wanted You to Know.” My theory with Kepi is that he is like Social Distortion: despite adhering to a certain sound, he really has noticeably changed overtime, even if a fan’s favorite album will probably always be the first one they picked up (in my case, Fun in the Dark). Kepi has never released an album I’ve disliked and this is no exception, especially if it gives him a reason to tour with a full band in the near future. Just like the song “Rock’n’Roll Shark” says, “I gotta keep movin’, I gotta keep swimmin’, I gotta keep winnin’.” –Adrian Salas (Asian Man)

Home Recordings 1984-1990:: LP
I am unfamiliar with the oeuvre of this bold songwriterly cossack, but, during the fifty percent of the record when i can actually distinguish the vocals from the acoustic guitar and other miscellaneous sounds, he kinda sounds like a folknik Jad Fair with a snitch of Daniel Johnston on the side—two similarly-aligned studs of the era. During the times when it just sounds like vaguely audible mumbling underneath some kinda acoustic guitar freakout in my left ear and a guy beating on a beer bottle non-stop in my right ear, he reminds me of just how unlistenable those Eugene Chadbourne records were back then, and why did anyone buy them in the first place? Joe Jack appears to be attempting to make some kind of broadly political statement in “Get a Car!”, but i don’t really know what it is and i don’t think he does, either, so screw it. Counterintuitively, records like these are great for purposes of pizza delivery—you kinda lock yourself in the car with it and one of you eventually comes out alive. Oh, wait, Joe Jack doesn’t have a car yet. Well, he knows what i mean. BEST SONG: “Stranger Gold” BEST SONG TITLE: “Hey Lolly” FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA FACT: My first cassette player loaded cassettes in a manner generally considered to be upside down, and, to this day, i can’t tell which side is rewound unless i look at the cassette upside down. –norb (HHBTM)

“It’s Working”: 7”
James Arthur’s discography is impressive, to say the least. Dude has worked with Jeffrey Evans, Jay Reatard and Alicja Trout, Darin Lin Wood, Steve Pallow, etc. His self-titled debut album (released on Australian label Aarght! a couple years back) absolutely ruled. This 7” is no different: idiosyncratic sound effects—spooky as hell—with James’ great, heavily phased guitar lines on top. The single track is split between the two sides. Don’t know what else to tell you except that whenever Mr. Arthur releases a record, I always buy it immediately. –ryan (In The Red)

Liquid Assets: 7” EP

Featuring former and current members of more great bands than you can count on both hands, Iron Hand is a band that just oozes talent. They play a brand of crushingly heavy and face pummeling crust/d-beat that rivals the best of any bands in either of those genres. Side A of this 7”, the title track, “Liquid Assets,” is my favorite of their songs. The driving riffs get you head banging even while sitting down, and the blazing leads and backing vocals take the intensity up even higher. Side B features two tracks, the original track “An Ode to No One,” and a cover of synth punks The Screamers “122 Hours of Fear.” The original offers more of the band’s quality riffage, but the real gem on this side is the cover. Replacing the synths of the original Screamers tune with guitars, Iron Hand takes an already raging song to a new level of fury. If crust or d-beat is your thing, this 7” demands your attention.

–Paul J. Comeau (Safety Meeting, ironhandcrushesall@gmail.com)

Self-titled: CD
If I didn’t know better, I’d think this was some long-lost early ‘80s hardcore demo tape that never got released and had been unearthed by one of those labels that do that sorta thing. You know, the good stuff, before it got all rigid and there were too many rules. (Although, who am I kidding—I love that later stuff, too.) Nine ragers that blow by in about eighteen minutes with just enough changes and different parts to keep you interested but not enough to suggest that too much thought went into them. I imagine firing up the bong and deciding who’s making the beer run (and searching for that beer money in the couch) are more important to The Infernal Names than practicing. As it should be with music like this. Good shit. –Ryan Horky (Scumbros)

Local State Inertia: CD
Hot off the presses, the long-running Chicago outfit comes back fierce with this kick ass platter-o-rock. Prickly guitar, soaring harmonies, and passionate songs about the world’s ills make this one a no-brainer. “Charms and Pills,” “Catch 22,” and “The Damage Done” are stand-outs here for me. The packaging is slick, too. I was a bit perplexed about the cryptic “47” message listed inside. BPM? Average age of the band members? Nope—the old hidden track trick! Expertly produced by Mass Giorgini, it’s a real sonic treat to listen to real loud. Now if these dudes would only tour outside of Illinois, I would be very happy. –koepenick (Arctic Rodeo)

Jacker: CD
“The Urinals” is my knee-jerk reaction here, and I really don’t think it’s that far off the mark—deep-in-the-garage, fuzzed out, echo chambered sound and some seriously brittle-sounding guitar are well in evidence here. There’s more to ‘em, though, much more—shades of Wipers, assorted garage rockers, and maybe even whispers of Joy Division float in and out. In the end, though, all that dissecting ‘n’ sub-categorizing doesn’t diminish in the least that this is one bad-ass muhfuggin’ record. –jimmy (HoZac, hozacrecords.com)

The Tombs: 5"
Five inches, seven songs, 45 rpm. That’s the selling point. Brilliantly crafted tongue-in-cheek lyrics with perfectly curated samples over heavy-as-hell grind with biting, memorable riffs. The production is crisp, which fits nicely for this particular brand of chaos. “Swans Tickets” and “Rotten Apple” are the best and most appropriately paired grind songs I’ve heard so far this year. Get this immediately, you will laugh out loud and beat up your neighbors in one breath. –Ian Wise (A389)

Greetings from Reading, PA: LP
…it’s always interesting to note how the advent of punk rock stoked the boilers of not just the folks who heard the Ramones or Sex Pistols or Damned for the first time, flipped their lid, cut their hair, bought a guitar and a leather jacket and chucked their Emerson, Lake & Palmer records into the back part of the closet, but also how it aligned with the workaday schmucks who were, due to their preexisting mutation, already attempting to bash out their own solutions to the thorny quadrophonic equations ROCK had become ((e.g., the Dictators)). The Gruberger Brothers published their own zines which predated punk rock ((and its attendant zine culture)) in the early 70’s, as well as being in the quasi-legendary ((meaning I’ve heard of them before)) O. Rex, and the legitimately legendary Afrika Korps. This album covers their various musical escapades from 1978-80, and, not surprisingly, not unlike the prime constituents of the Gulcher/Gizmo/Panic proto-punk axis ((with whom they are aligned)), they are making ROCK which comes out PUNK because THEY FEEL THE RAWK BUT THE RAWK DOES NOT FEEL THEM BACK so fuck it. More often than not, things come out sounding like a sort of amateur hour Dictators ((roll THAT concept around on your tongue for a while!))—e.g., “Here Come the Pussies,” “Rock & Roll Is Better Than Music,” “Die Donna Die”—with occasional spasms of the sublime ((“Chain Saw”)) and drips of the legitimately retarded ((“Dance Fool Dance”)) for good measure. I cannot, in good conscience, say whether or not owning this record can save your soul; this unsurety clearly opens the door for the concept of Salvation Via Gruberger Brothers to exist as a mathematical possibility. None can ask fairer than that. BEST SONG: “Hotel Madness” BEST SONG TITLE: “Die Donna Die” FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA FACT: I’ve been to Reading and I’ve seen that pagoda on the cover. Weird town. –norb (Rerun)

Self-titled: Cassette
Late ‘80s-style hardcore with a heavy straight-edge influence: guitar sound, breakdowns, gang choruses, and lyrics that look inward. This isn’t bad, but it’s not entirely “need to hear it again” stuff. That’s not to say there’s not potential here. If they shorten some songs, crank the guitar up in the mix, hone in on making more of a punch, and stray a bit from the formula, then they could be a force to reckon with. If you like bands of the past like Mouthpiece, Turning Point, Chain Of Strength, and the like, then you may want to check these guys out. –Matt Average (God Mode, godmodeny@gmail.com)

Fear of the Unknown / Lockdown: LP / 7” flexi
I’m hearing/reading from various sources that this is the final record from these guys. Too bad, I suppose. I thought they were pretty damn good, and had a few more worthy releases in them. This record is no different than anything they’ve done before, but it’s still worth getting, and, if anything, this album only underscores how great they were at what they were doing: early ‘80s punk rock U.K. (via present day Quebec) style like what you would here from labels like Riot City and Clay. The music is charged full of energy, the delivery is urgent and confident, and they blast from song to song without much pause. “Demented Killer” is a rager with its racing tempo, and the bass running just underneath the guitar, but not too far down to disappear. “Face the Reaper” is a bona fide classic. I use that word sparingly, but I can promise you will hear people talk about this song in years to come. So f’n good! It’s one of the songs that I immediately replay as soon as it’s over. Most of the songs on the second side are ragers that go for broke the whole way through. Crank this up and get caught in the whirlwind of songs like “Dead or Alive,” the insane “Crown Attorney,” and “Poisonous Lifestyle.” The when the record is over, start the process over again. Love this record! One of my top ten for 2011. Then there’s the flexi 7” that comes with this. Two songs. The title track is an intense ripper that has a relentless delivery and one that sears into your memory. Then they close out with “Is This Really Hell?”—a bit longer than the first song—but still a crusher. The guitar solos are pretty cool, and add to the urgency. Comes with a massive poster as well. –Matt Average (Loud Punk, loudpunk.com)

Self-titled: LP
Gentleman Jesse plus a Black Lip and two other dudes whose names I don’t recognize. Overall, the album sounds like Gentleman Jesse fronting a cleaner (in sound, not lyrical content) Black Lips. This is a good thing. Songs about heartbreak (“Pretty Boy” and “Don’t Get Married”) and despair (“We Are Only Gunna Die”). Part of me really wishes “I Wanna Join the James Gang” was about Joe Walsh’s pre-Eagles band, but I don’t know why. –Sal Lucci (Norton)

Why We Fight: LP
This is a reissue the first Gatsbys American Dream record from 2002. All profits apparently go to benefit the charity Water.org. (I think they work to provide clean drinking water to third world countries or something like that.) I may be mistaken, but I think this is the first time this album has seen a vinyl release. I always thought Gatsbys American Dream was one of those New Found Glory-type pop punk bands that sprouted up around the turn of the century and made life unbearable for all of us for awhile there. The (very) tiny amount of research I did in order to review this has led me to believe that they grew out of that style and got more “challenging,” though I didn’t actually listen to any of their other records to confirm this. This record is basically really slick pop punk with a few musical twists and turns thrown in. I must be goin’ soft in my old age because I didn’t just want to chuck this out the window. Some of the songs are okay. I don’t think I’m ever gonna throw it on the turntable again, but if you were a fan and always wanted this on vinyl, here you go. The gatefold packaging is really nice and the clear/splatter LP looks great. The money goes to a good cause, too. –Ryan Horky (Overdue Collection Agency, overduecollection.com)

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