Jason Lowenstein is a punk rock superhero, that's the first thing to get straight otherwise the deal's off. A disciple of the true and noble word of Rock. Lowenstein has torn up and spat out the road and any other obstacle on his righteous path to The Real Thing. The sound of the eternal riff, the teenage howl, the snare pound rising from the basement, the AM dial tuned in by the hand of pot. The head is nodded, the arms outstretched and we are ready to blow momma, cause it's a heavy load. Cranked out and taped by the jackhammer Lowenstein hands alone. Fourteen songs that blister, chug, sweat and spit. There is painful honesty: 'I'm A Shit'. There is playful technique: 'Crazy Santana' and there is the communication breakdown and eternal stew of human interaction: 'Codes', 'Casserole'. There is bonged-out paranoid introspection: 'More Drugs', 'Mistake'. But most of all there is Rock. All-American balls to the wall Rock. Amps-cranked-tunes -nailed Rock.