An unrelentingly average CD of punky hard rock from Buffalo, New York, one of the most blighted, nowhere urbs in creation (I hope the guys in the band are aware enough not to argue this point). Nothing here sucks out loud (except perhaps the production, a bloated, blurry affair that's the aural equivalent of a bellyful of bad beer), but neither does anything stand out from the swamp of halfway-decent bar bands slugging it out at Tuesday 8 p.m. shows on stinky, duct-tape encrusted stages across the land. Harsh? Yeah. But make no mistake: I hold no personal grudge against such bands, nor do I wish to convince them to pack it in. Everyone deserves a shot at fame, or at least a brief respite from the pointless banality of life. Anyway, my words are unlikely to stop Rude Fix from pursuing their rock n' roll dream. Fact is, a few years of polite applause will do more damage than any snide remark I could make. I truly hope that somehow they escape that fate.
Hamburg, NY 14075