You Should Be Sinnin'
Sometimes the difference between vehicular manslaughter and arriving home without a ten year stint in the pokey is the right cassette choice. How many times have you thrown yourself into the driver's seat with a post-work head fulla hate and nothing in that case is gonna match your disgust with the human race. Well, what's kept me from a return gig at the downtown Oaktown lockdown lately is the Dirtys' You Should Be Sinnin', a monster spew of vitriol and fuckitallness that is one of the few slabs that actually matches your rage spit for fucking spit. Less a collection of songs than a rolling middle finger at everything and everyone, twenty minutes alone with the Dirtys always lets me land home safely on the couch, heart rate down to only coke-ingestion levels, rather than the previous homicidal ones. Descriptions pale, but call it blues-based rock played at hardcore speed, with all the I-don't-give-a-fuck attitude you could possible want. Bum notes and outta tune guitars actually add to the dark charm. Look, some days, the Razor and Mr. T just ain't gonna keep ya from jailtime. Next time, make the Dirtys your ride home.