I miss my days of listening to punk rock without thinking about it. I
didn't care where they were from, which label they'd inked a deal
with or what their best points of reference might be. If they were
good, they were good, period. They made me like them, made me feel
them and made me believe in them, and I never, ever had to explain
why.
I kind of wish I didn't have to explain why I like the Eddie
Haskells. Maybe it's because they take me back to the many times I
blasted a variety of punk rock, nodded my head, grinned and enjoyed
the rush. And maybe it's because the Oakland, Calif. band reminds me
those times aren't necessarily behind me. Music like theirs prompts
me to shed those analytical habits, return to a time when thinking
didn't get in the way, when I was lost in a moment, not in a thought.
Still, I understand you've possibly not heard the Eddie Haskells
indeed I owe you some sort of description. They feel as much
influenced by late-'70s British punk (Generation X, The Sex Pistols)
as they do early '90s West Coast skate/pop-punk (Operation Ivy). But,
like any good punk band, they claim a stake of their own through
attitude sometimes snotty, other times playful and
energy sometimes ferocious, other times rollicking.
At once gritty and messed-up and infectious and sing-along, the
six-song EP (the sixth track being hidden) features Johnny
Thunders-style guitar, sloppy, sneering vocals and
can't-get-'em-out-of-your-head melodies. With the right combination
of energy and attitude, there's no need for explaining, just feeling.
Go ahead it's OK to rock along without breaking it all down.
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