San Francisco's no stranger to punk, but the garage typhoon seems to have swept out the old barnacles of the Mabuhay era and ushered in a scrappier set. Life Stinks hearken back to the pound and grind of classic California punk, sneering and tearing at the landscape with a nihilistic throb that would make Crime and Flipper proud. The album was helmed by two of the modern day luminaries of studio squelch, with Kelley Stoltz repping his hometown scene at the boards and Mikey Young putting that touch of Aussie boot-neck scuzz into the mix. A damn fine team to have behind any record but Life Stinks would rip the seams on any platter regardless of who's pressing record on the reels. They've been hailed elsewhere as San Francisco's last true punk band and that tag may suit them best. They're pretty much stitched from bullied black leather, bar smoke and beer residue. This is the kind of record that finds its way to the undiscovered echelons years later, echoing through 'shoulda been there' chronicles and critics’ lists in kind. Best get on it while it's fresh in mind rather than long out of print.
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