Do you remember the first time you did white drugs and shirtlessly ran around a backyard party telling anyone who would listen how much Fleetwood Mac's Tusk changed how you heard the world?
Honeys produces that same reactiondilated pupils, prickly skin, anxiety, catharsissans hard drugs and the shameover. From the moment "Bathroom Laughter's" fuzzed-out bass drives panzer-like into your temples, it is on. Vocalist Matt Korvette barks, growls, grumbles and groans. Guitars squawk and stomp.
This is rawk and roll at its filthiest and it's merely the opener to an album filled with so much thunderous ass-kickery that it's a difficult proposition to choose a favorite track.
Speed is traded in favor of sweaty, slow swamp-ass grind on "Chain Worker." Overdriven bass and swirls of grunting doom-filled feedback are matched with Korvette's belching hollers in a satisfactory sonic display of how monotony can rule our lives.
The band does its best Rollins-era Black Flag impersonation on "Male Gaze." Korvette admits that he stares at women although he knows it's inappropriate and creepy: "It's when a smile becomes a stare/ And it starts to burn," he sings, before lamenting, "I'm not innocent, but I'm sorry." Grown-up reflections and youthful energy rate this the most besotted pair of jeans yet.