Attack On Memory, the record from which 'Wasted Days' is lifted, will always been an important album for me. A landmark, if you will. Brash, unpredictable and disturbingly vicious, it allowed me to spit some of the teenage angst that still lingered in my throat in a relatively harmless way, and it appeared that Dylan Baldi, chiefly responsible for the band's tortured couplets and venomous delivery, felt something similar. If the majority of the LP brims with scuzzy guitar licks, albeit laced with unashamed pop sensibilities at the core, 'Wasted Days' is a sprawling, erratic interrogation of the band's respective instruments, resulting in a swirling psychedelic soundscape that only relents as Baldi begins to scream himself hoarse. Essentially, it's like being punched in the mouth, repeatedly, for ten minutes. Maybe it'll numb the pain?