Everyone’s favorite space-age mutant skate punks are back with their long awaited fifth album (self-titled as were the previous four) and and it does not disappoint. Twelve new action-packed songs of apocalyptic fuzzed-out over driven madness.
The Spits are already as ingrained in modern punk music as possible, yetstill manage to devour the rip-offs and influence the youth of todaywithout even looking like they're trying. Going strong now for over fifteenyears, smashing the windows and tearing down the walls of our minds everytime they roll through town, these truly vicious visionaries have cookedpunk down to its most powerful base form, crawling like Neanderthals through the muck, and creating a flaming trail of hits that'll take quite afit of dementia to ever forget. A perfect distillation of punk's original
open-ended weirdness, and modern music's serrated salvation, The Spits have proven themselves to be no one to fuck with, over and over again. True headliners, never to be followed and for good reason.An old tape passed along through one of their biggest and earliestSupporters—Sir Lord Bob Kondrak of Seattle—was what really blew up the spot everywhere we managed to hijack the stereos during that magical summer of 2001, and ever since, The Spits have been setting the bar high, throughout the Midwest, and soon after, the world over. With an ingenious amalgamation of DEVO's early synth work in tandem with the absolute best Thug-Punk grunt the Ramones could ever maliciously muster, The Spits never try to reinvent anything, they just rip it's head off and drive it home time and time again.
They've always been one of the most original bands of the twenty-first century, yet it never really seemed like they weren't doing anything too experimental, save their signature, yet refreshingly just-ahead-of-their-time, synth/drum machine noise they forced the fickle punk crowds to gladly swallow. When we finally caught wind of them, the demonic void that they filled was utterly too much to handle, and hence became the number one band everyone wanted to see, and we became the first of many fanatics to fly the band into town for our Chicago Blackout festival.
It was that pre-information overload-type of underground music mystery thatjust gets all the endorphins rushing. I mean, were they even real? And the way their throbbingly addictive songs just drip like sticky tar out of the speakers, their guitars that sound like food processors seemed to dull all our senses, just at the same time that the impeccable lyrics invigorate us beyond belief.
Possibly one of the only modern bands to have several of their songs being covered by their contemporaries, The Spits have already done so much, but still have so much more to come, as they continue to influence anyone with a penchant for irresistible punk music, played like there's nothing to lose.
In The Red records couldn’t be happier or prouder to finally have the Spits as part of their roster!!