Imagine you pull an all-nighter for an exam that kicks the shit outta you. Imagine you come home, turn down an offer to meet up with your significant other because you've got no energy and you're body's just too damn run down. Imagine all you want is your cozy bed but your body's so wired, it's tough to fall asleep. And as you sink under the sheets, just imagine as soon as you finally start to lull off, a garbage bin of cold water's poured on your face and you wake up wondering what the fuck's going on. Soda Bomb is that frigid kick in the teeth. In fact, if you're looking for one of the biggest punk ambushes of the year, this is it!
After backtracking to their older stuff, it's safe to say they traded up with Wanna Jam? but one thing's for sure -- they always showed crazy potential. Distorted fuzz rock and lo-fi badassery comprise Soda Bomb's wall of sound. Infectious riffs build the quartet's pleasantly obnoxious vibe and in terms of their catchiness, well, think of Joyce Manor and State Lines. But with a harder edge and a more carefree attitude.
"Brainbuster" is a perfect example of this. The opening section plays off a la We Are Scientists but quickly lets loose into an indie-punk poppy beast. In fact, quite a few tracks start of with little acoustic intros before launching into a state of college debauchery. The opener "Look Ma, I Majored in House Parties" and "Damn, Dude" are pretty self explanatory, right? Bro-punk, if there ever was a term coined. "Fucked Up" is another tune that follows suit but what it does is add another dimension to the band by melding thrash and skate punk together with quite a flurry. A lot of punk sub-genres clash but Soda Bomb manage to create their own subversion within each track. This particular song exemplifies how they ramp things up and once this hits you, it's quite an addiction.
All in all, everything colludes pretty sweetly and every ounce of praise is much deserved. "Underbite (I'm Not Gonna Do That)" is the banger that best unglues the record as it focuses humor, aggression and immaturity perfectly. Taylor Berke (guitar/vocals) combines well with Jon Gusman (lightning-quick drums/vocals) and their vocal signature's ideal for the zero-fucks-given middle-finger they consistently and thoroughly outlay. This album matches up with Choke Up (Black Coffee, Bad Habits) as albums that have really flipped the punk script this year. Punk mostly, indie at times, and then...a different monster when you least expect. There are minor flaws and honestly, I'd have a hard time finding stuff on Wanna Jam? that irks me. Trust me on this one. It's a fuckin' keeper!