Sharp Ends - Broadview Pressure Test/ Panic Button b/w Vacant City/ Can't Say No (picture sleeve) (re-issue)

Tracks

		Track Name	Length
	1	Broadview Pressure Test	04:07
	2	Panic Button	01:49
	3	Vacant City	03:14
	4	Can't Say No

Photos

Videos

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Information/Write-up

Please think about the approximate number of worthless “is-what-it-is” bands choking the demographic playground where I have been sticking my ears and nose since the world was without responsibility. By virtue of the fact that you are simply reading this, there should be no question as to what demographic playground I toss copious reference towards. Are you thinking about it? That’s some “Nurse, please fetch my musket and position it under my chin” shit there, buddy-boy, so I always hate to see an inspired, on-the-level band break-up, namely when five or more groups of unapologetic flip-flop enthusiasts or T.A.O.A.O.-sufferers are waiting to overflow the tiny cultural pockmark left by the ones with potential. Sharp Ends had potential. Perhaps it was not the sort of prescient mind-shattering as delivered by The Young or Dimples, but it was potential nonetheless. Sure, this final release compiles some below-the-cutting-room-floor recordings, with all four somehow bled of any and all dynamics by the nature of origin (practice tapes, live performances recorded from the next block). But the goods will be recognized by anyone privy to the rest of this band’s tiny discography. Sharp Ends was proof that source material, especially concerns about its over-usage, means very little if the band hits that intangible sweet spot between “great” and “untouchable” while in the act of appropriation. In truth, a garage-mucked Fugazi doesn’t really have a discernable precedent, but that element is just subtle enough to allow hypothetical confusion re: this band’s agenda and any of the duh-zillion male models who used the first half of the ‘00s to apply rock to the aesthetic menu while initiating a soon-to-fail plan of pie-in-the-sky world domination minus those troubling “hard work” or “several shit-eating years” obstructions flattened by more relevant forbearers. Then again, this band was just good enough to create a distraction from such cynical nit-pickery. White vinyl, 300 copies.
-Andrew Earles

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