You've got to be kidding me. This is the second time I've had to review this record just this week alone. Well, sure, this time it's from Vagrant instead of Polyvinyl, but this is getting ridiculous. And there's a number in the band's name, always a reliable warning sign.

The punk tradition, as much of an oxymoron as that phrase may have initially seemed, is at this point an ominous, stifling presence. Bands that are good enough or unique enough or, more likely, lucky enough to warrant attention outside of their local scene or label's roster, are cast out of favor as sellouts. The cycle repeats itself tirelessly. Every year, another wave of kids become sophomores, dye their hair, buy an amp, and pierce whatever's hip to put a hole in that year.

For better or for worse, the Automatic 7 have little chance of crossing over, breaking through or selling out. They can keep making this album over and over with little danger of stumbling onto anything exceptional or, heaven forbid, unique. Beggar's Life, this particular variation on The 90's Punk Album, meets all the minimum requirements. Running time under a half hour: check. Nasally guitarist/vocalist: check. Tone-deaf backup vocals from the bassist: check. Capable but hopelessly unimaginative drumming: check. Tactless song about the dangers of IV drugs (titled "Syringe," no less): check. Lyrics that celebrate the music's uniform simplicity with lines like "just give me some of that three chord sound": check and double check!

The All Music Guide, while a consistent and dependable reference source for any music geek with too much time and a curious mind, always tends to falter with their useless index of what they deem "similar/related albums." In the case of Beggar's Life, the AMG lists results so laughably inappropriate that it bears mentioning that the Dismemberment Plan's Emergency & I is among them. The Plan, of course, have long been banished from the kingdom of punk homogeny for crimes against maximumrocknroll too numerous to mention. Meanwhile, countless bands that sound exactly like Automatic 7 are all too eager to fill that space with their own versions of The Punk Song.

Right now, three lugs are in the drummer's garage, hoping they can land that coveted spot as the fourth band on the five-band bill next time the Automatic 7 comes to town. And maybe they will. And maybe they'll get signed to Vagrant. And maybe I'll have to review this record yet again when they make it, too.

-Al Shipley