Casualties

After almost 15 years, New York street punks the Casualties have pretty much sealed themselves into the lower, even slimier, gutter-ridden version of the Ramones. Songs are never very complicated, you know what to expect more than the band do at times. Somehow though, it works so well, one can’t help but be sucked into the fray. Raging and relentless, they haven’t lost any of the passion, fire or vitriol that has encapsulated their previous releases. Yet again with Under Attack, one instantly gets the feeling that these rats are incensed to get out of their cage… but if they’re freed, we’re all in big trouble. At least we’d sing along though. Their way of mixing aggression with memorable choruses is infectious to the point of toxicity. Even though Under Attack hints at stagnancy via yet another 12 blasts of pseudo-political, mostly personal songs, the quartet still have enough petrol in the tank to fire up our hearts. Blend in the SoCal-Pennywise "whoa, whoa, whoa” chant with singer Jorge’s almost offensive rasp and we’re suckers yet again… bring on the bondage pants.