Green Noise Records
Casual Burn, fresh from the press, dropped like a bundle of Creem on the corner of you know where, crashing through your roof like an anvil, time to wake up, Wile E, stay golden, ponytail, ah oh, spaghettiOs, Casual Burn puts on the pots and bashes them around the back door kitchen in some N’orleans’ dive, flicks spoonfuls of hot chitlins in your face, stirs up a whole mess of beautiful punk-rock’n roll stew, Monet’s vocals rolling out the edge of the cauldron, fuzzy focused electric-guitar riffs burning holes through the darkness, drums snapping dust, swamp rats running for cover, rhythm yanking open the drapes and letting some moonlight into the room, flick some grits on your forehead to wake you up, get this greaze going, wipe the cobwebs and grits from your face and get ready for fall, feast your ears on this. – Winch
