Everyone’s favorite space-age mutant skate punks The Spits are back with their long-awaited fifth album (self-titled, as were the previous four) and these twelve new action-packed songs of apocalyptic, fuzzed-out, over-driven madness do not disappoint. 
Going strong now for over fifteen years, smashing the windows and tearing down the walls every time they roll through town, these truly vicious visionaries have cooked punk down to its most powerful base form, crawling like Neanderthals through the muck and creating a flaming trail of hits that’ll take quite a fit of dementia to ever forget. A perfect distillation of punk’s original open-ended weirdness and modern music’s serrated salvation, The Spits have proven themselves to be no one to fuck with, over and over again. True headliners, never to be followed and for good reason. 
One of the only modern bands to have several of their songs covered by their contemporaries, The Spits have already done so much but still have so much more ahead, as they continue to influence anyone with a penchant for irresistible punk music, played like there’s nothing to lose.