Whether you’re holed up at the Missionary Training Center or just dream of being there someday, this latest collection from Gainesville’s favorite ska-punk sons will help you get through those lonely nights.
Review: Less Than Jake – Greetings & Salutations
National Music Reviews
Less Than Jake
Greetings & Salutations
Fat Wreck Chords
Street: 01.08v
Less Than Jake = Catch 22 + Mighty Mighty Bosstones + Reel Big Fish
Whether you’re holed up at the Missionary Training Center or just dream of being there someday, this latest collection from Gainesville’s favorite ska-punk sons will help you get through those lonely nights. Seriously though, Less Than Jake is one of the world’s premier pop-punk bands who just happen to prominently incorporate horns into their sound, and 20 years in, they’re still bringing their A-game. Compiling two tour exclusive EPs and two new tracks, Greetings & Salutations continues the tradition of LTJ songs about fucking up and feeling out of place—themes that have endeared them to generations of dorky teenagers. They have hooks for days (“Younger Lungs,” “A Return to Headphones”), satisfy old-school skankers’ insatiable lust for upstrokes (“Can’t Yell Any Louder”), and are seriously the only band making this kind of music worth paying attention to anymore (sorry, Streetlight Manifesto). I you’re a fan, you’ve already heard it. If not, apparently you’ve never been a sex-deprived teenager. –Ricky Vigil
Greetings & Salutations
Fat Wreck Chords
Street: 01.08v
Less Than Jake = Catch 22 + Mighty Mighty Bosstones + Reel Big Fish
Whether you’re holed up at the Missionary Training Center or just dream of being there someday, this latest collection from Gainesville’s favorite ska-punk sons will help you get through those lonely nights. Seriously though, Less Than Jake is one of the world’s premier pop-punk bands who just happen to prominently incorporate horns into their sound, and 20 years in, they’re still bringing their A-game. Compiling two tour exclusive EPs and two new tracks, Greetings & Salutations continues the tradition of LTJ songs about fucking up and feeling out of place—themes that have endeared them to generations of dorky teenagers. They have hooks for days (“Younger Lungs,” “A Return to Headphones”), satisfy old-school skankers’ insatiable lust for upstrokes (“Can’t Yell Any Louder”), and are seriously the only band making this kind of music worth paying attention to anymore (sorry, Streetlight Manifesto). I you’re a fan, you’ve already heard it. If not, apparently you’ve never been a sex-deprived teenager. –Ricky Vigil
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