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The Bouncing Souls' fourth album pretty much affirms why I don't like punk music at all. The music is loud even when it's on mute, the guitar chords are clamorous, and the beat is fast and frantic--this is music you play to piss off your parents.
I have never understood the phenomenon of head banging until now--the almost silly loudness of "Kid" and "It's Not the Heat, It's the Humanity" certainly made me want to bang my head against the CD player, over and over and, yes, over again. But after a few repeats, the catchy beat starts to conquer your feet, then works it way through your hips and soon you'll be crashing your head with the best of them.
The band says that they are indeed "hopeless romantics," which is sort of sweet. Lyrics like "another weekend and I didn't get laid" are rather charming as well. Fans claim that the band has sold out to its new record label, Epitaph, but the music is still punk, through and through. I'll never buy any more punk albums, nor do I have even the least desire to witness the scary stuff that must happen at a Bouncing Souls concert. Still Hopeless Romantics did at least help me to work that annoying crick out of my neck.
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