Does everyone in Seattle dress in newsprint and speak in an affected yawp approaching Charlie Harper from the
U.K. Subs, or are these phenomena specific to
the Spits? This disc is more one- and two-minute tunes to jumping jack from these herky jerky weirdos, and this time around, they've gone in for that authentic "we recorded this in a public toilet" sound. On
The Spits (Nickel & Dime), no one seems very concerned with trifles like technical skill, tuning and variation, or even about any hooks beyond the fluorescent haze emitted by a buzzy synth and a batch of recycled punk power chords. And yet, there's something endearing about their uncaring. Maybe they deserve a medal for actually putting as little effort as possible into the music, and still succeeding mightily. The monotone
Ramones romp of "Die Die Die" is saved by handclaps, while "Saturday Nite" is probably the only song with such a title to not offer hope for the weekend -- instead,
the Spits seem like they're on a prowl for trouble, with a hyper synthesizer as a divining rod. By the closing double-shot of "I H8 Pussies" and "Suzy's Face,"
the Spits' fake accents have mutated to suggest
Joe Strummer with sinus problems, and reverb has overtaken guitar as the most prominent instrument. It's been a brief, brash, ride, but a sleazily fun one all the same. ~ Johnny Loftus