This band is breathtakingly boring. What I mean is, they make me want to take my life by asphyxia. They belong to the progeny of bands whose stance is in staunch defiance of the status quo, as defenders of the weak, disenfranchised, and oft-overlooked members of the punk scene and the global community, but their sound is the auditory personification of the whiny white prick whose Ray-Ban glasses I'm going to smash. Assuming that the title references their collective forfeiture of their fruit-flavored, low-ABV malt beverage of choice, it is unfathomable that any sober ear may listen to these recordings with any sense of pride and self-assurance.
Like some old, out-of-touch blogger somewhere else on the internet said: "It’s the record that your sister’s favorite pop punk band might grow up to make." My sister liked Simple Plan. This sucks.
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