No Talk- Leather Discipline

Well, hello, and happy New Year! Let's talk about Erotic Asphyxiation, because that's the first song on No Talk's most enjoyable album, Leather Discipline. I don't know about you, but the occasional trip to homo joke punk island, a la early Turbonegro, is a refreshing holiday from the mounting responsibilities of aging rockheads everywhere. I say bring on the black leather jackets and the guttural vocals and let those three chords ride along the melody tracks. Just be careful with those singalong choruses when the kids are around, especially when the rousing anthem that is "Sexcop" spikes those dopamine levels and all of a sudden it's 1985 and you feel compelled to blast it and your cracking voice brings gasps of horror from the family. This is a basement album,  and what you wear while listening can remain your little secret.   I can't wait until Little League season, with the crowd hushed during a pivotal late-inning moment, and I begin involuntarily screeching out a few verses of Levi Leather Uniform. Good fun for the whole family! Did he just say "masturbate him"? Well, now I've got that stuck in my head, so don't say I didn't warn you. Straight talk with No Talk. Sexcop. Right.