That The Explosion’s time has come now seems almost unfortunate - the Bostonians were crafting catchy pop-punk gems years ago to minimal critical acclaim or commercial success, but in the wake of the Good Charlottes of this world their crossover album sounds cliché-riddled and devoid of any real substance. Instantly gratifying hooks and incessant, driving riffs are a given, but the structure and delivery of early album efforts like ‘Filthy Insane’ and lead single ‘Here I Am’ is older than the Heavens.

Sure, everything here is polished to a high-gloss shine, so much so that finding specific faults is a fruitless critical exercise, but it’s not quality that lets Black Tape down, more a nauseating feeling of déja vu. Didn’t The Bronx release this record last year, albeit in its snarling, post-watershed form? Haven’t Green Day already stormed the pop-punk barricades of the last few months with a string of excellent singles? Really, the only problem with this record is the one facing the record label that have finally given a deserving band their break: just how do you sell this to kids that have gorged on much the same for years already?

Towards Black Tape’s close the band offer ‘No Revolution’: “There’s no revolution anymore”. Well, there was, but that ship sailed whilst you were toiling on the US toilet circuit without bucks enough to break into the big league. So...

Bad band? Hell no - The Explosion are masters of their craft, however one-dimensional it is.
Bad record? Not at all - Black Tape is full of anthemic choruses that teenagers the world over will flock to pump fists to.
Bad timing? Oh fuck yeah.