Unspoiled

Love and punk and ska and soul and reggae and rockabilly and the Clash and all. Punk rock as Chicago blues--a bottomless tradition, you understand--complete with a harmonica-driven thing about smoking your last dollar in Tompkins Square. Politics lived and/or thought out. A bassist who could carry an entire song if he had to and a drummer who can lay back when he's charging forward (not easy--ask Charlie Watts). Technicolor buzzsaw guitars and 3-D switchblade guitars and wide-screen Godzilla-glitz guitars and these little miniguitars, too. All this and "Who Would've Thought," where Tim remembers the days when he drank like a fish and crawled like a wreck and rejoices that he didn't go crazy, that he's done with watching TV all day, done with the drinking and crawling. He's got anger under control, he's got the girl and the dream. Still sounds like there's something burning deep inside of him, though. The Ramones left home but never grew up. The Clash split up when they couldn't cut the crap. So if you're at all interested in the struggle of getting older and still rocking hard, I don't know what you're waiting for.

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