I’ve made a lot of bad decisions in my life, the remnants of which litter the road behind, and the path in front of, me. One of the most ridiculous of those magnificently awful choices was my ill-conceived notion that The Lawrence Arms wasn’t for me. Don’t ask me why I made it and why I’ve clung to it for nearly two decades, I couldn’t tell you because I have no idea why it happened. All I can tell you is that I was wrong. I was very, very wrong. 

I love Skeleton Coast. It’s a fierce, anthemic, blue collar punk rock record full of absurdly catchy sing-a-long songs that get under your skin and rattle around inside your head for days at a time. If I could, I’d offer you all sorts of comparisons, but I can’t because The Lawrence Arms don’t owe anything to anyone else.  They sound like The Lawrence Arms and that’s it. And that’s more than good enough for me. I’ve got a lot of catching up to do and a terrible life choice to make up for…  Tim Cundle