[a]Lit[/a] are punks, but only in the loosest sense possible....
[a]Lit[/a] are punks, but only in the loosest sense possible. Fresh off the south California production line, they faithfully follow that area’s rule of good-to-bad-tune ratio. Namely, there will be about two decent ones.
[a]Lit[/a]’s are the merrily-ricocheting ‘No Big Thing’, and ‘My Own Worst Enemy’, which has a hook as sharp and persistent as a leech. Gonzoid trash fun maybe, but how we got from The Dead Kennedys to here remains a mystery.
But then, [a]Lit[/a], you suspect, never had a herculean struggle with the concept of selling out – they were too busy dreaming of fast cars and snappy additions to their tattoo and lip beard collections. It really is [I]that [/I]shallow; their regulation dalliances with ska and new wave precision-tooled for bland radio stations and undemanding mall rats. Worse still, they can’t even be bothered to follow the punk charade through properly. Accordingly ‘Perfect One’ and ‘Down’ are morally-bankrupt cheese, owing more to ’70s soft rock than anything Joe Strummer might recognise.
In California they brew their own sunny brand of punk. It might be emasculated, but be fearful – it’s taking over the world.