[4/5] Ironically, with their major-label debut, the Bronx make you realize how far even the most obscure bands in this scene have fallen into commercialism. In an era when most "punk" bands spend months in the studio polishing the edge off their songs and Auto Tuning their vocals until they sound inhuman, the Bronx simply couldn't give a shit. Their new, second album is like a cut that doesn't heal, a stunning 33-minute blast of reality in its totally fucked glory. The band come out guns blazing on "Small Stone," a 52-second blast that shows an Island Records advance check didn't soften these guys' fury. Songs such as "Shitty Future" may seem nihilistic, but there's a soul underneath them. You hear it in frontman Matt Caughthran's voice and in the swaggering guitars, which occasionally have a classic-rock feel (see "White Guilt" and "Oceans Of Glass"), but in a good way. It's punk played by guys who appreciate rock 'n' roll; and although a couple of the disc's slower tracks weigh it down, The Bronx is a high colonic for the punk scene, clearing out all the shit and making us healthier because of it. (ISLAND) Kyle Ryan
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