A few words about the new album... 40 Thieves is straight-up exorcism. From the twitchy opening chords of the first song "Capo," their new disc is an attempt to get it off their chest. What exactly is it? Life suckah. And all the creaky stop-and-start rhythms, driving, beat-dropping bass and manic, guttural, throat bleeding vocals in the world can't drive that **** out, can it? No, and that's why they can't let up, not even for a second. Mixing the lapel grabbing sonic immediacy—not to mention the slight reggae tendencies—of the Clash with the storytelling prowess of the Boss, 40 Thieves have provided the soundtrack to the best basement party you ever went to, where you left the scorch of the makeshift mosh pit—so hot that a beer spilled on your shirt provides welcome relief—for the different heat of the furnace room, where you finally press your lips into the mouth of the girl you've been thinking about the entire work week. It's a hard life. Edmonton, where these Thieves hail from, has never been considered Shangri-La by any means. It's cold, it's dark, work's hard and so are the people. When the weekend rolls in you gotta get your feet moving somehow, you gotta make all that disappear. You gotta, or else it will consume you. And you gotta do it now, man, you gotta do it now. There's an urgency to these jams that's infectious. Catch it.