The bar has been raised once again in the "Riding the shortbus punk" genre sweepstakes with this record. "How big is the genre, anyways" you may ask. Well, it's not that big yet but with bands like the Wax Museums and these Ohio schlemiel's leading the pack it's only a matter of time when the NME will run an piece on something they'll probably tag as "Tard-wave" (take note where you've now first heard that phrase) and a bunch of dinks who actually take Pitchfork's rating system seriously will be bidding big money on Ebay for records that've been out for a couple of years to prove they're the scene's biggest fan and were "into it before Spin magazine would give them the time of day" or some shit.
"Box Of Records" is a tale the good luck that happens to a vinyl votary while walking down the street that sounds a little like No Trend if they weren't so damn disqusted by the world (and taking that disgust out on the world) and decided to pile a garage punk riff under a couple buckets of sludge. Finding a box full of records just sitting on the curb waiting for someone to find them and take them home before the trashman does and takes them away to a landfill. And though I'm guessing I dig a bottle of beer as much as these guys do ya really can't disagree when the say that satisfaction of a box full of records is gonna last much longer than that brew will. If I saw a bottle of beer sitting on a curb I would pass it on by but if a record was sitting there I would pick it up and take it home.
On the flipside is "I'm A Cobweb", a dollop of No-Wave screech dropped into a glowing red hot iron skillet of bear grease and difficult time signatures then served up to patrons of a bar that caters to those who get kicked out of mental institutions the minute their insurance runs out.