maximumrocknroll.com (US) Jan 2021 This record really ticks off the boxes—eleven tracks, none of them over two-and-a-half minutes long, and reportedly recorded on one cheap microphone (but sounds better than most studio efforts). It has taffy-sweet hooks, but still sounds tough. Basically everything you want from nihilistic garage punk that’s still palatable enough to put on at a dinner party (depending on how cool your friends are). Hits a great STOOGES-like peak with the “Gimme Danger”-echoing highlight “It Ain’t Fun (In the City of the Whiplash).” The whole album slips in, slaps your face and dips out before you can ask for another. Raucous, gritty, and near-perfect. (LH)

RAZORCAKE #121 (US) March 2021 This LP has its foot on the accelerator for the punk’n’roll crowd. The second song on the album, “Numb the Mind,” is a real slammer. The two-minute opus opens on a playful chuggy riff you wish you’d thought of, evolves nicely into ratchet speed, then devolves into chaos. “Occipital Neuralgia” steers the album to a series of one-and-a quarter minute blasts of speedy downstroke riffs. “It Ain’t Fun in the City of Whiplash” is a surprisingly excellent slow jam with a hammer. It’s sung well and plays familiar but not contrived. Well, maybe a little contrived, but you won’t mind. It’s a real winner for lovers of the hot blast. Highly recommended. (BA)

greennoiserecords.com (US) Dec 2020 Brand-new release from Alien Snatch! Records (Berlin), low budget basement beer-bottle busting punk rock n roll, maximum trash compactor economy, chewing on live wires with a mouthful of spit and 40 weight, stomping in puddles, biting mics, spilling beers in the amps and busting bottles against the cinder blocks, but in all the filth and whiplash, remains tattered pages of what the Kinks and the Who taught us in mid 1960s and Ramones clearly reminded us in the mid 1970s, no matter how deep you dig into the dumpster, you gotta come out with your filthy face grinning, feet kicking and your fist pumping, no matter how mangled that melody gets, you gotta charge forward and keep some intact, this band maybe mostly inspired by Animal and Oscar the Grouch and folks like the garage crunch of the Novas, and probably obviously not too concerned about what happened in the past or what some jackass like me is going to say in the future, ripping it up like a textbook before skipping out, wrapping it up like a guitar chord around your turkey neck, ripping loose like the Tasmanian Devil, blasting out of Detroit, Cleveland, Memphis, Rocket From the Tombs, Stooges, MC5 and the Oblivians, grabbing you from the get-go like that punk kid that saves the day at the show and rips you from your stupor and gets the show going, slowing it down for a moment for some of "It Ain't Fun (in the City of the Whiplash)" which they stretch out for two minutes and fifteen seconds, the cuts spitting out like spurts out of the last gallon of the pumped up keg of low-budget Canadian brew. Drain it and drink up, pint-stowp take a cup o' kindness old acquaintance be forgotten, the new decade is nearly upon us and this album is a great place to start if off. Yours truly and unruly.. (mw)

fasterandlouderblog.blogspot.com (USA) Dec 2020 Alien Snatch Records has saved 2020! The venerable German label has released the debut album from Canadian underground sensations TJ Cabot & Thee Artificial Rejects - an 11-song long player that features several tracks once feared to be lost forever. The tale of TJ Cabot & Thee Artificial Rejects is one filled with intrigue, heroism, controversy, and shocking violence. Cabot, a notorious multi-instrumentalist and talented hellraiser, fell into the company of drunken libertarians Millhouse Deville, Rooster Targett, Skookie Tobin, and Leblanc Road Leo. Plans were hatched to wreak havoc up and down the eastern coast of Canada. Manifestos were to be written. Bridges were to be blown up. Sovereign states were to be established. As the drink flowed, the group decided to just record some songs instead. This past spring, Demos Recorded in the Anus of the Maritimes was released to tremendous acclaim. And then trouble ensued. Squabbles over intellectual property and the political direction of the group led to the best songs on the album being pulled from the digital release. The world mourned. People read my review and wondered where these songs I referenced had gone. Not content to sit around and allow a potentially classic release to fall into the dustbin of history, Daniel from Alien Snatch took decisive action. Armed with potent beverages and rare Von Zippers vinyl, he crossed the Atlantic by ship and descended upon the Maritime wilderness to broker a deal that would satisfy all parties. And today songs such as "Occipital Neuralgia", "I Am The Enemy", and "Vile Converted Mind" return to permanent circulation. Depending on your current location, you may even witness celebrations in the streets. It's only appropriate that Alien Snatch Records has brought TJ Cabot & Thee Artificial Rejects' debut album to the world at large. And that's because this sounds like a record that Alien Snatch and Rip Off Records may have wrestled each other to release in the early 2000s. It's informed by equal parts '70s punk and proto-punk, '90s garage punk and budget rock, and modern-day lo-fi trash. Recorded with just a single $5 microphone on a decade-old laptop, these tracks are super raw and about as lo-fi as it gets. Daniel, in his inimitable style, references everyone from the MC5 to the Spaceshits to Kajun SS to Gino and the Goons to the almighty Pack on the album's press release. And my tender ears pick up on touchstones ranging from the Stooges to the Saints to the Angry Samoans to Sick Thoughts. This just has the feel of a garage punk record from that prehistoric age when YouTube did not yet exist and nobody under the age of 18 used text messaging. Cabot and his (literal) partners in crime tear through mostly 1-2 minute songs that run the gamut from vicious ("Numb the Mind") to trashy ("On Off") to positively pummeling ("Cold In May") to kinda almost poppy ("Nowhere To Go"). Who needs fancy equipment or a fourth chord when you can bang out some noise as righteously ferocious as this? I'm not saying that records like this never get made these days. But when they do, Alien Snatch is frequently involved. I would recommend TJ Cabot & Thee Artificial Rejects to fans of Phone Jerks, although it should be noted that a fierce, contentious, and highly territorial rivalry exists between the two bands. You know how intense things get in the Maritimes. Suffice it to say that this is a debut LP that will be very much in contention for the honor of my #1 punk rock album of 2020. If it takes the top spot, it will have to supplant another local band that shall remain nameless for the moment. What in god's name is in the air up there? (JR)

ox-fanzine.de (GER) #155 April 2021 Dafür, dass das Aufnahmeequipment mit nur einem Pfandcoupon bezahlt werden konnte, klingt das ver-dammt gut. „Cold in may“ wirkt wie ein verlorener Song der ANGRY SAMOANS, aber es geht auch im Sonny Vincent/TESTORS-Style, DEAD MOON und neuere LoFi-Perlen wie Bands auf Jeth-Row oder eben NAZI DEATH CAMP. Nicht lange fackeln, Idee, Riff, 1-2-3, fertig ist der Song. Manchmal herrlich kaputt, an anderer Stelle schimmert der verdreckte ungeschliffene Diamant durch, bei dem man noch nicht weiß, ob er Einschlüsse hat oder nicht. Die komplette Bandbreite derer, die keine großen Bühne brauchen, solange sie die Felgen an der Garagenwand ordentlich beschallen können. Über die gesamte Strecke erscheint es fast wie ein Sampler mit jeder Menge Bands, die zwischen Garage, Proto-Punk und eigenen Interpretationen von Lärm aus den Siebzigern pendeln. Ein Schelm hätte daraus auch gut und gerne einen verdammt gelungenen KBD-Fake-Sampler gebastelt, der sich wie geschnitten Brot verkaufen ließe. Lange nichts mehr derart Herzerfrischendes aus einem überdachten Autoabstellplatz gehört (8/10) (KS)

RUMORE (IT) Feb 2021 Scende la puntina su Cut It Down e si materializza Gordon Gano alla testa dei Pagans, per poi teletrasportarsi nella Detroit degli MC5. Ma questi sono canadesi e hanno tatuato sul petto gli Spaceshits, l’incredibile gang punk’n’roll di King Khan e Mark Sultan. A voi il miglior gruppo Budget Rock in circolazione, sorprendente nella lacerante ballata It Ain’t Fun e nella melodia epidemica di Nowhere To Go. (78/100, MG)

tremendogaraje.blogspot.com (ES) DEC 2020 Os voy a decir otro tipo para el que este 2020 también ha sido un "gran" año... Que no es otro que el Puto Tyler Boots, al que ya conocíamos por su participación en los Phone Jerks ,que esta temporada, reencarnado en el "supervillano" TJ Cabot, decidió reclutar a un sectario grupo de secuaces malhechores, a cual mas borracho y gamberro, para tanto acompañado de ellos, como los Artificial Rejects, como en solitario, cometer actos de barbarie en su Nueva Escocia natal, convirtiéndose pronto en el terror de toda la costa este canadiense, y desde allí a ritmo frenético, con el Rock'n'Roll por bandera, a base de "háztelo tu mismo" y ultrabaja fidelidad tirada a todo trapo comenzar su conquista del planeta. Con sus nuevos poderes de malvado abyecto a la altura de Thanos, le hemos vistos hacer de todo, y de todo hemos ido dado cuenta en Tremendo Garaje ,desde viajar en el tiempo para estar en los estudios Dick Charles con los Ramones en el 75, hasta dar un salto cuántico y plantarse en Teramo, donde la Goodbye Boozy records le editó uno de sus codiciados 7", con tres fabulosos temas zarrapastrosos y mas ariscos que una lija de grano gordo, que tenían la capacidad de volverte instantáneamente en uno de sus por siempre devotos acólitos, y así entrar en una espiral de maquiavélica destrucción en la que este tipo ha demostrado una desmesurada y mas que prolífica capacidad para desatar el mal, que tras una ingente cantidad de pérfidas ediciones han ido perfeccionando el arma definitiva, hasta acabar materializándose en este artefacto de destrucción masiva, en la también todopoderosa ALIEN SNATCH! RECORDS ,que con el homónimo nombre de TJ CABOT AND THE ARTIFICIAL REJECTS, es el Armagedón total que acabará con este mundo, para que nunca mas nos tengamos que preocupar de un puto virus, y Greta se desmelene y deje de pensar en calentamiento global... Y es que uno no elije como nace, pero si puedo elegir donde palmarla, que sea arrasado por esta puta barbaridad! Con su ya mencionada capacidad de viajar en el tiempo, Tyler ha conseguido aunar en este destructivo engendro aquellos primeros designios del punk primigenio de los setenteros Angry Samoans, con el vandalismo feroz y frenético del punk-garage noventero de los New Bomb Turks... Y además, y ahí es donde está el especial merito de este inspirado descerebrado, conseguir que con un micro de 5 pavos y un destartalado set de grabación que a cualquier otro lo único que le provocaría sería arcadas, o un ataque de risa, lograr insuflar todo el conjunto de ese anguloso "lofi trash" de la escena actual, logrando por fin que el Rock'n'Roll Punk vuelva a sonar, sin tener que renunciar a ningún matiz de los que han hecho a este genero el mejor espectáculo del mundo... Que ya os digo yo que no es el circo!