Joan Jett unites with Seattle's grungecore Gits for plenty of speedshticked slamdance-ranting and four (!) odes to alcohol. Too bad there's not enough Jett to fuel Evil Stig. Her defiant snarl is mixed too low beneath all the rumbling noise and half-baked tantrums. The few songs that do spring to life all rock like '80s Joan, before she befriended any riot grrrls. B
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