Coke Bust

If Washington, DC's Coke Bust are what can happen when a band embrace the straightedge mentality even after reaching the age of majority, paint some Xs on our hands and pour our booze down the drain. Lines in the Sand is fucking brilliant. Not since the early scene's obvious Ian MacKaye influence have a band held this much feral intensity in the palm of their hand and just let it fly. Sounding unique throughout these 33 songs, the closest thing one can even compare their distorted cacophony to is if punk rock'n'rollers Zeke joined forces with grind masters Brutal Truth to hammer out a bunch of Minor Threat songs through an S.O.D. filter. While bands such as No Friends have come close to attaining that particular (or is it peculiar?) approach, with its barbaric vocal dirge and thunderous, angry attack, only Lines in the Sand attains it. Moreover, with its endless barrage of killer riffs and ephemeral malice, this thrillingly abusive half-hour feels like being on the very wrong end of a cavity search by someone with a two-foot hand span.