One of the best Punk bands, ever. That's not an exaggeration. Dillinger Four are fast and tough, but they lace their songs with deadly sharp wit and dangerously catchy melodies. They don't screw around with wanking guitar solos and they don't whine about their girlfriends or girls they wish they had, or girls they wish they hadn't had. In both their tight, blustery sound and in their socio-politically conscious outlook, they embody Punk. And they like beer. A lot. Not everybody who likes Punk will be into Dillinger Four; Johnny Vomit spare changing in front of the liquor store will dismiss them as being sell-outs for some concocted reason (and besides, they don't have any facial tattoos). Max Thrash, still wearing the bloodied shirt he got at his first D.R.I. show, will call them slow and boring because you can -- gasp! -- almost make out what they're saying. A recent album is titled D4 vs. God; in this battle, our money's on D4, the Twin City Bruisers.