don't put on airs. They barely put on their shirts. is a Boston record through and through, its blue-collar heart soaked in beer and blood of foe. There's a community feel here, from its titular name-check of an area in Dorchester to the makeup of the band and their special guests. Ex- and (vocals and drums, respectively) join former and bassist in , and features guest shots from Boston regulars like of . There are similarities to , that band's raucous debut -- 's heartfelt bellow is instantly recognizable, and the music often sticks similarly to tried and true street provocation. But the opening title track makes it quite clear that is a record about ' own experiences, hopes, and anger -- not some sort of sequel to . encourage singing and slinging of pints over ringing riffs and choppy percussion, and reaches way back to 1977 for a rant against hoity-toity celebrity liberalism. (Speaking of 1977, rip into 's with a "Boston Version" subtitle) But while fists and drinks are crucial to this crew, brotherhood and neighborhood ties run as deep as 's unstoppable melodies. reflects on 's pride over his Boston Fire Department day job, and is a bootstraps-pulling rocker complete with a round of "Hey! Hey! Hey!"s. But it's that best represents . As a bittersweet tribute to a fallen comrade, it manages to tie together faith, devotion, drinking, fighting, and working-class ideals in just over three minutes of stinging, hooky . ~ Johnny Loftus