While life, for the most part, is a series of brief periods of joy interspersed with prolonged bouts of bad luck, misery and misfortune, there are some things that you’ll stumble across during it’s duration that you can unquestioningly rely on; things that will briefly help to increase those fleeting moments of happiness.  And Slapshot, along with the ’72 Oldsmobile 442, Kona Brewing and Terrapin Beer, front row season tickets for the Cardiff Devils and Ric Flair are right at the top of that list.

While I see any new Slapshot record as a reason to bounce off the walls with joy and unbridled excitement, the band do have their critics. Mainly sandal wearing, moustache waxing hipster types who usually accuse Boston’s finest of releasing records that always sound the same. And you know what? They’re right. They do. Slapshot do release records that sound the same.  But that’s not a reason to be down in the dumps, that’s reason to celebrate, crack a smile and start rubbing tube after tube of bengay and deep heat into your tired, aching old joints in order to get yourself pit ready for the main event and prepare for Slapshot.

See Choke and his crew of malcontents specialise in angry, hate fuelled, fast, straight to the point, old school, sing-a-long Hardcore and Make America Hate Again  proves that they are just about the best at what they do. You know what you’re going to get before the needle drops and what you think you’re going to get is exactly what you do get. That is, around twenty minutes of adrenaline pumping, bruising Hardcore that doesn’t pander or cater to trends or bullshit or give a good god damn what anyone else thinks. Make America Hate Again is Slapshot doing what they do at one and ten percent, giving it their all and delivering another bona fide Hardcore classic. Thank whatever maker you believe in, find your happiness and trust Slapshot to Make America Hate Again… Tim Cundle