Ok, so these Cops look like they’re from New York City. It’s a band thing – and I’m not even talking about the music yet – just the layout, the setup, the overall vibe – it’s whispering New York City Nights and Rockin’ under the city lights. I’m talking the voidoid New York, not the new look of the 00’s. But, let’s listen to the sounds, shall we? Because… I happen to know that this band kicks outta northwest Seattle, and I need to find some connection between my eyes and my ears, here… so off we go. Shouldn’t say no to Free Electricity, y’know?

Free electricity, indeed. The buzz and energy you get from just one listen of this disc makes up for the cost of actually buying the thing. It’s hard and dark and fast and pop full of punk attitude filtered through the eyes of right now. This band holds some very strong chords of future-forward pop punk in between their beats and guitar strings, but there is also a knowing nod and tip of the hat to early Clash and Elvis Costello – as well as a nice gutter touched Replacements swagger, not drunk in the gutter, but looking for a fight, more likely. The guitars kick and kill, but with a nice kiss. And the vocals flow a little Joe Strummer against the snap of the underground in the rhythm. This Year’s Model goes Sandinista? I’m not sure, but what I am sure of is that this Seattle band is definitely worth the listen.

With Supersucker Drew Church doing the head kicking bass lines, Michael Jaworski on lead vocals and guitar, John Randolph on guitar, David Weeks on drums, and now (though I don’t think on this recording) Brandon Bay is hitting the guitars with the Cops as well. Add to all this rocking (and flashes of Seattle bands like Hello From Waveland and the Black Panties) the behind the mixing board duo of Kurt Bloch and Johnny Sangster and you have a mix that hits like dessert before dinner. The band manages to rock out full force and get your blood pumping even on the slower numbers, the touch of political reggae tinted rock that brings me back to days of listening to Combat Rock, the jangle strangle edges of new wave death throws against the force of punk frenzy that is held perfectly in control, and the heavy hits of some kinda Murder City dub frenzy that slides almost unnoticed beneath the sharp feedback chorus hooks.