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You can love something so completely and sincerely that it becomes hard to tell whether you are mocking it. This is what Rosenstock does with third wave ska, with no detail, trope, or subgenre too small to escape notice and inclusion.
Great singalong spirit, hot flaming hooks, and actual things to say.
On Halloween I fell asleep to this horror-punk platter playing, and dreamt of whirling in a mosh pit in a toxic swamp, catching elbows and knees from zombie alligators and bouncing off leaking radioactive waste barrels. I woke up covered in bruises.
Like the whoomp from pouring too much firestarter on and throwing the match in, this band is in your face, exciting and a bit scary at the same time, with its snarling guitars, sneering vocals, and the heft of every possible item in the garage.
Camilo Lara teams up with some influences from the southern hemisphere to bring about this collection of decidedly cumbia-inflected tracks. The sounds lean heavily towards the casiotoned but are expertly counterbalanced with orchestral decorations.
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