Sheer braggadocio stomps deep bootprints into the petrified face of Rock N' Roll throughout the Rye Coalition's second LP< The Lipstick Game. The analogy is simple-- Rye Coalition's thunder is to your neck as Lenny from "Of Mice and Men" is to bunnies. This is the sort of nervy, low- end thudding that squeezes hearts to a stop. Truck- class riffs fuse Shellac's jagged menace and AC/DC's melodic chest- beating into what is, quite simply, the most massive punk rock noise on the planet right now.

The swagger and hooks of The Lipstick Game smell more like the motor oil and body odor of classic Camero jams than the angular stabbings of early Rye Coalition-- "Amplification of the Queen Bee" and the record's title track both boast stadium- sized solos, and the album races by like Led Zeppelin on crystal meth. The delicate, acoustic "Tangiers" and "The Years" offer brief respite from this assault in delicious mini- epics. But the moments of beauty feel like those extreme slow- motion shots of fat drag- racing tires buckling under the extreme torque from pavement and 8,000 horsepower-- you know some ridiculous amounts of G's and car- crash chaos are on the way.

Rye Coalition never hide their muscle behind layers of metal crunch or studio punch. Other groups might rely on andro, tanning oil, and vein- popping flexing to show off their stuff, but the Rye Coalition have a certain Robert Mitchum- esque, head- through- a- garage- door air about them. Tongue- in- cheek lyrics like "Rooster's on the loose/ He's in the hen house" save Rye from simple sausage- in- jeans testosterone spraying. The uneasy edge of the guitar builds anxiety like a toxic taint. And, hell yeah, they're from New Jersey. Naturally.

-Brent DiCrescenzo