The world's most reluctant slam-pit makers are back with their third LP. For those disenchanted by the pensive, stop-start vibe of their most recent material, this effort will be a welcome, if not a complete return to the up-tempo guitar-wall fury that made every pubescene-indie-fiend-on-a-first-name-basis-with-the-local-surplus-store shit a brick when Repeater came out. All you've come to expect from this quartet is here: Ian's controlled screaming, Guy's not-so-controlled pleading, Joe's slippery bass, Brendan's (adjective not available at press time) drums. And, of course, what would a Fuganthem be without some politically charged pontification? Which brings us to the lone complaint, namely that with this being their fifth release overall, the boys have pretty much defined their parameters, i.e. there are no big surprises. Sure, there are handclaps, and signs that they've been grooving to Polvo and Slint as of late, but this being 1993 and all, the whole Fugazi thing lacks the . . . how do you say . . . vitality of yesterday. But that's pretty much a minor complaint considering this album continues to demonstrate why 99% of the D.C. scene exists in Fugazi's shadow. Most bands anywhere would give their roadies to make a disc this solid. This is the REAL freedom rock, so grab your bottle of Evian and turn it up!! (Grant Tennille)