It's an interesting study in voice to compare Jets to Brazil to Jawbreaker; the throaty Blake Schwarzenbach fronts both groups. Backed by the taut, hyperkinetic rhythm section of Chris Bauermeister and Adam Pfaler in Jawbreaker, Blake's vocals seemed to sneer and spit in frustration. But in Jets to Brazil, backed by That Guy From That Band That Had That Guy From Quicksand and That Guy That Drummed In That Emo Band Named After That Misfits Songs, Blake's voice comes across as a forced Oxford affectation-- a bad Richard Butler impersonation. The difference is a testiment to the power of punk rock, and more importantly Chris and Adam. Let's be honest-- the world needs a Jawbreaker song (perhaps even the Queensrychian "Jet Black") over any Jets to Brazil keyboard ballad.

The continued trend of making live albums exclusively from one late- career performance has given the world some impotent live records. This basic bootlegging seems rather effortless. For Jawbreaker fans, it means sitting through the slower, over- thought material from Dear You instead of "Want," "Chesterfield King," or "Incomplete." "Save Your Generation" and "Accident Prone" are not bad songs-- and hearing them here is more economically beneficial than dropping $30 for a copy of the out- of- print Dear You on eBay-- but they're not exactly representative of Jawbreaker's greatest moments. It also baffles that a band would release live material recorded so close to their break-up. This period of a band's career has never been the most fruitful for "classic live performances"-- especially when the show is a shortened set from a Rock for Choice benefit with the Foo Fighters.

This being said, Live 4/30/96 merits purchase for three unreleased songs. "Gemini" shows that the band was leaning more towards the sound of 24 Hour Revenge Therapy's thick punk after the mildly disappointing Dear You, and "Shirt" similarly smokes with bratty energy. Thankfully, these songs' velocity never afford Blake his heavy- handed lyrical tendencies. The line, "You're not punk and I'm telling everyone/ Save your breath I never was one" from "Boxcar" punches harder than "I have a present: It is the present/ You have to learn to find it within you."

Blake's attempt at stage banter is pretty unintentionally amusing, too. "It's a thrill for us to play here... and have it be... fun," he mumbles between songs, stumbling through the worst segue of all time: "Because we live here and it can be scary sometimes... this is about a scary time we had last year." His stage presence is comparable to a shy ninth- grader's advanced- placement science project presentation or a disorganized DJ on low bandwidth college radio. The stammering nearly discredits his songwriting. Fortunately, the bubbly, larynx- booting rhythm section kicks in.

The representation of 24 Hour Revenge Therapy-- namely "Jinx Removing," "Ashtray Monument," and "Boxcar"-- still sharpen the point on Jawbreaker's flagpole claiming the land of Greatest Punk Band of the '90s. Then again, you can get those songs on the classic 24 Hour Revenge Therapy. And so we come again to the tired Live Album dismissal: for fans only.

-Brent DiCrescenzo