IKARA COLT

Ikara Colt: Chat And Business (Epitaph) - Honestly, I’m sorta torn on this one. I mean, these guys definitely rock out like a quartet of heavyweights. Right from the first song, Ikara Colt jumps on your back and starts devouring your skull like a Muslim Oprah Winfrey after Ramadan! There were moments when I feared for the safety of my hearing, what with all those thundering drum charges and dog tormenting guitar squeals. And, while the lead singer has a voice like Freddy Krueger’s nails on a chalkboard, it’s still got a classic punk tone that reminds me of The Clash and The Sex Pistols. If anything, this album’s downfall is its lack of inventiveness. After awhile, it just melts into a tureen filled with the musical dinner leftovers that turn up the next day as a breakfast quiche. Fancy food talk aside, Chat And Business gets old, fast, despite the menacing lulls and skull-splitting climaxes. What’s worse is that the press kit articles and interviews depict these kids to be a bunch of trend-happy, “we’re so rebellious” art school brats from London. I know punk music is all about “fuck the man” and whatnot, but one thing the world does not need is more snooty, mod, asshole Brits. I’ve got enough work on my hands with the Europeanized Vespa-riding mod fucks over here. I don’t need to get that crap shipped to me via the UK airwaves. I say, “A pox on ‘em all.” However, if you’ve recently dyed your hair black, bought a used scooter, and refuse to wear any color brighter than black, gray, or navy blue, be sure to check these kids out at ikaracolt.com. Solid!