I have a liking for noisy-ass groups like All-American Rejects, they bring something loud and obnoxious but vital to the table, not to mention an exposition of testosterone gone wild. Turf War is kinda what would happen if you got those bad-asses to settle down and dig into some cowpunk, Ramones (anthemics), old 60s garage music, and an updated version of cavern rokk vaguely in a Standells vein. Nothing terribly innovative here, y'unnerstan', more a three-chord pop punk parade of cracked radio fare and stamp-pressed rave-up.
I remember going to see Iggy at the Palladium. Social Distortion opened for him. After the fourth song, me and my buddy looked at each other, and he asked "Is it just me, or are they playing the same damn song over and over with different words?". I explained that it was a staple of the punk movement, often making up for a lack of musical breadth but also a side avenue in headbangery but without the uber-metallic pounding over in the Century Media environs. Turf War's a bit like that but with just enough variation to satisfy both pogoing punksters and the drunken yobs who just want to shout and scowl…not to mention lookers-on who sense the seeds of sophistication somewhere in it all.
Favorite cut? Bones. It's sing-songy cool. Mainly, though, I think these guys haven't gotten past the getting shitfaced together stage, the wilding impulse to know just enough to make it onto stages and then dive into the Goth girls and boozehounds. And why not? You're only young once. Like most all punkers, they'll wake up one day and get serious, and there's just enough here to indicate the lads will craft up a few surprises in the process. In the meanwhile, they occupy a middle bandwidth in the spectrum.
Edited by: David N. Pyles
Copyright 2011, Peterborough Folk Music Society.
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