With a name as sleazy and low-down as the music itself, is the debut of former vocalist 's band of the same name. Championed for his visceral howl, and equally impressive baritone crooning -- usually accomplished within the same measure of a song -- is a decorated veteran of the American underground, even if he bears more Purple Hearts than Silver Stars. As such, he's been through it, seen it, done it, and not once reduced himself to effete posturing or derivative aesthetics. Following the chronology from through to , has more or less remained the same, touching on the same - and hardcore-based topics of loss, the futility and inevitability of drug use, lack, and desire. Sonically, this album is an amalgam of 's hammer-to-the-head aggression, and ' more nuanced blend of punked-up, -based laments. ~ Patrick Kennedy