If you're named "The Spits" and you name all of your records the same thing (i.e., "The Spits"), I think that kind of says it all. Nevertheless, contributor Seth Graves said a little bit more, so let's have a look:
There’s a saying that discourages the fixing of things that aren’t broken, or the breaking of things that are fixed, or what have you. Seattle-based garage punk trio The Spits are one such example of that philosophy in motion. The art of high-speed, three-chord rock ’n’ roll had already been perfected when The Spits picked it up in the early Aughts, and its entropy has remained balanced ever since. Releasing their fifth self-titled album last year, the band acknowledges the genre has little to improve upon, and seems incapable of doing it any wrong. As the title would suggest, it pretty much sounds the same as the first self-titled album: fast, cheap, fierce and as rock ’n’ roll as they can get without becoming so rock ’n’ roll that they’re not rock ’n’ roll anymore. —SETH GRAVES
Local punk outfits Useless Eaters and Psychic Hotline — both of them good, duh — open. Doors are at 8 p.m., and it'll cost you 10 bones.