Barn Burner
Bangers
Metal Blade

Barn Burner, you raggedy sons-of-bitches! Are you fucking kidding me? Just when I thought Montreal’s world-eating rock n’ roll machine couldn’t possibly get any meaner, you come bustin’ out of a mile-high pile of crushed PBR cans in some wood-paneled den in your flannel and denim like you’re the goddamn Kings of the Rotten, set my beard on fire, and then piss on the flames. Now the smoke is burnin’ my eyes and I smell like a wino in a litter box, but I’ll be damned if I’m not the happiest rat crawlin’ in the rock n’ roll gutter. I mean, this album right here is the reason I do what I do, that’s for damn sure. It breaks my beard, boy-o.

(more…)