On their fourth album Gato Negro, a humorless clutch of tough-grrrl conventions and abrasive bluster, 7 Year Bitch occasionally score (''Crying Shame,'' ''24,900 Miles per Hour'') but more often sound like a band — possibly a genre — running out of ideas. Past performance suggests there are lyrical insights to be gleaned here, but who can hear them amid the pained caterwauling that makes L7 sound articulate?
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