Lost Bombers

With a street punk fervor and back-to-basics bearing that shook up the grey concrete of Portland, the Lost Bombers unveil a stateside
kind of Oi that remains tough as nails and anthemic, even though rasp-throated, gutter-snarl singer Mike Hell has died.

Reminiscent of bands like Iron Cross, Templars, Chron Gen, and Hard Skin, and underscored by their heavy-duty skateboard culture background, tunes like "Jimmy" cascade in boot boy rhythms and no-bullshit stride, while "Last Rides" depicts life on the gritty edge.
"Locals Only" sketches out the turf war -- keeping outsiders from privileged surrounding suburbia towns at arm's length since they don't bring respect with them for the hometown PDX crews who struggle everyday in the city's shadows.

Other tunes are equally pissed-off ragers, like the tense muscles of "Stale Model," with its accented pounding and pummeling that fill a room like live-fire cannon volley; meanwhile the bass injects extra limber molten energies, and the guitar roams with increased wildfire intensity, on "When You See Me Coming," a warning to idiots.

"Put your money where your mouth is," they yell on the closer "Stand Up and Fight," which exerts pure adrenalin and exhorts people to be ready steady and willing to go when needed.

In all, this is bone-crunching, abrasive, roiling street rock for the gray-smattered here and now.