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Dunc the Punk's
Record Reviews

By Dunc the Punk

In the interest of keeping things interesting, we here at the Reglar Wiglar Record Review Dept. are always on the lookout for a new way to kill off a couple of reviews, and what better way to do that than to give them to a real life Brit punk rocker? So here he is, he's Dunc the Punk and he's pissed.


Born Free

Dunc would rather volunteer for a vigorous bout of cock-in-cock action than give this bigoted ball bag's latest impotent rage a listen.

King Uncaged

Dunc has obviously upset the bosses at Reglar Wiglar Towers. What other explanation could there be for forcing him to review this never-ending avalanche of shit?

Speak Now

Shut the fuck up. Now.

Hannah Montana Forever

Dunc suspects that this is not her real name, and thinks that anyone who adopts a stupid fucking twee rhyming pseudonym is clearly an enormous bell-end who should jump in front of a bus right now.

My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy

Dunc's dark fantasy: Starting a Charles Manson-esque murderous uprising to declare war on all mediocre pop piggies. Helter-fuckin-Skelter.

JUSTIN BEIBER My World 2.0 (Island)  
ROLLING STONES Exile on Main St. Super Deluxe Edition (Hip-0)  
OASIS Time Flies... 1994 — 2009 (Big Brother)  

Dunc was supposed to review these records, but quite frankly he can't be arsed. He has no interest in listening to a bunch of men with more wrinkles than his own ballbag. He has no idea who Justin Beiber is, but assumes he is a moronic numpty who gets pre-teen girls wet. And Oasis are a band with egos inversely proportional to any talent they may have ever had. No. Dunc is only interested in the World Cup. The single greatest event in the fucking world. Even when all the fans are unaware that vuvuzelas sound worse than Satan's farts and England are playing like toilet, Dunc can't get enough of it. This one is particularly good, with the Germans (sorry Justin— Jewmans) losing to Serbia and the Frogs fighting with each other. (When the French fight each other, who surrenders first?) Oh, and Dunc wants all you septics to know that we gave you that goal to make up for the BP farrago. So we're even now, right? 

The Fame Monster (Interscope)

How do you make Lady Gaga cry? Poker Face. Right? Wrong! The real answer is kick her in each of those exploding bacon bits of hers. And add a couple of cheap shots to her Pizza Huts for good measure.

The Weekend: Friday (Universal Motown)

It probably goes without saying that Dunc is no fan of the rozzers. Well that was until Dunc heard that the Philly police beat up these MTV-fellating twunts without apparent provocation. Releasing laughable Jedi like this is provocation enough in Dunc's eyes.

Love Drunk (Columbia)

Boys like girls? Well, to paraphrase Shakespeare: methinks these knob jockeys doth protest too much. Either way, Dunc likes his punk without third-rate teen wangst, so he's off to the pub to get Schindlers and forget these drooling morons ever existed.

Dunc The Punk Guide To Cockney:
Bacon Bits = Tits
Pizza Huts = Nuts, Testicles
Rozzers = Police
Jedi (Knight) = Shite
Schindlers (List) = Pissed, Drunk

*The opinions of Dunc the Punk do not reflect those of the Reglar Wiglar or, quite possibly, anyone anywhere.

From Reglar Wiglar print edition:

Blue Shade Witness (Double Zero)

Uncompromising, powerful, and vulnerable Brit-rock. That's what they say. Gay, whiny and fetid shit-cock is what Dunc says. This lot are about as useful as tits on a frog.

Pride & Persecution (TKO)

Judging by the cover of this record, The Boils think that Nazi imagery is cool. They are wrong, and so is their music. The Boils fucking stink and should be lanced immediately.

Hardcore Hooligan (Burning Heart)

This really is the fucking business. The absolute mutt's nuts. Oi! punk about how English footie is the best in the world and how England have clearly won every World Cup ever staged. Hardcore Hooligan is the best album Dunc has ever heard.

As the Last Light Drains (Victory)

Freya are a miserable bunch of Ethans. Freya have a bass player called Bulldog. Dunc has to respect both these things. What Dunc doesn't respect is the tedious guff they chose to release here.

Poprocket (JAM)
No Ed, Dunc does not want to take a ride in your rocket ship. And Dunc is willing to bet that no other right-thinking human being does either. Complete and utter Jackson Pollock. 'K off.

Product of Our Environment (TKO)

Dunc hates Hollywood too. Especially that Whoopi bint. Kevin Costner is a crime against humanity and don't get Dunc started on that dickhead Charlie Sheen. Smug talentless gits, all of 'em.

The Tops of the Trees are on Fire (The Militia Group)

The Dunc The Punk Diaries: Today I was forced to listen to some pretentious, Winona-drinking wally drone on and on about the usual wrist-slitting, bed-wetting cobblers. Complete pants from start to finish.

Oot & Aboot (Honest Don's)

You're 'aving a Steffi, right? Dunc has no idea why anyone would pretend to be a sweaty unless they had to. Either way, this is unrelenting pish and those responsible should be minced and cooked in a sheep's gut, like the haggis munching wannabes they are.

Busted Wings and Rusted Halos (Victory)

Dunc fancies a sordid posh session with the lemon on the cover of this record. She probably gives good blood. But everything else about this record and the tattooed pillocks that made it is shit on a stick.

Now I Know Forever (American Jealousy)
Dunc reckons they'll be waiting a lot longer than autumn if it's a good review they're after. Someone should ram the wrong end of a pineapple up their collective elephants, so they can know forever the pain that this shit-smeared emo caused Dunc by listening to it.

The Reglar Wiglar Guide to Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (Cockney Rhyming Slang)

Steffi (Graf) = Laugh
Sweaty (Sock) = Jock, Scot
Elephant (& Castle) = Arsehole
Ethan (Hunt) = Cunt
Winona (Ryder) = Cider
Cobblers (Awls) = Testicles
Jackson Pollock = Bollocks
Posh (n Becks) = Sex
Lemon (Curd) = Bird
Blood (Red) = Head

*The opinions of Dunc the Punk do not reflect those of the Reglar Wiglar or, quite possibly, anyone anywhere.

Star is Dead (Fiddler)

Punk is Dead, more like. It used to be about trying to change the way people think, all to a soundtrack of dirty sweaty sex. Now it's about teenage mummy's boys dying their hair blue and playing Blink 182 songs to spoilt rich kids who are trying to shock daddy while on spring break. Dickheads.

Notes & Photographs (Interscope)

It's a sick and fuckin' twisted world. Jangly little indie chancers like these get signed to Interscope, while Dunc's legendary band 'Shit The Bed' are still playing to a couple of old punks and a dog in the back room of the Frog & Pissflaps.

Beautiful Scars (Get Hip)

Dunc reckons the title of this record is quite apt, since it contains a cover of that flute Aguilera's 'Beautiful', which has scarred Dunc for life. These Spanish fucksticks have taken an already jizz-sodden song and somehow made it soggier. Minging.

Method: Fail, Repeat... (Cowboy v. Sailor/ Suburban Home)

Q: How many emo kids does it take to change a light bulb?

A: None. They just sit around in the dark crying about it.

Standing Room Only (RocketStar)

Dunc hates pop-up adds. They get in the way of the Johnny Vaughn. And now those shitcunts at Orbitz have one with a game called Dunk the Punk on it. What the fuck? Dunc never endorsed that, and will be suing the adams off of 'em just as soon as he's finished writing about shit bands with shit names and shit songs.

Yesterday Rules (Lookout!)

Yesterday did rule, cos Dunc finally convinced his bird to take it up the wrong-un. Yesterday Dunc was also blissfully unaware that any band would even consider releasing anything as Andrew WK-sounding as "Sorry For Freaking Out On The Phone Last Night." A steaming pirate ship from start to finish.

Sirens (Revelation)

This lot obviously want to be like And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead. They have a similarly long and ridiculous name, an equally awful album cover, with a just a smidge of the same rock fury. Sadly however, Dunc had more fun having his Jimi removed than listening to this record.

In with the Old (Volcom)

If Dunc wanted cod reggae, he'd listen to Bob Marley while eating fish 'n' chips smothered in inspector. Dunc doesn't want to listen to surfers play reggae anymore than he wants to watch reggae artists surfing. Why is that such a hard concept to grasp, Pepper?

Rope Tied to the Trigger (Victory)

Dunc would be happy to pull that rope. Shit Armani.

The Daylight Robbery (SmallMan)

Dunc can't get his head round screamo. Emo is whiny self-loathing, and nu-metal is vacuous macho posturing, so putting 'em together was bound to sound like a wet fart in the bathtub. And charging actual Arthur for this cobblers is daylight robbery. Dunc feels cheated and he got his copy gratis! Fair play to these particular Sri Lankas though, for realizing just how shit they really are and splitting up, saving us all from any more Frasier.

Everything Goes Numb (Victory)

If god had wanted punk rock to include trumpets, he wouldn't have made 'em so fuckin' hard to play, and he wouldn't have made 'em sound so pony either. Perhaps if this band had been called Street-Fight Manifesto, and had written songs about beating up Millwall fans, Dunc might have liked 'em. But they didn't.

The Reglar Wiglar Guide to Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (Cockney Rhyming Slang)

Adam (and The Ants) = Pants
Andrew WK = Gay
Arthur (Ashe) = Cash
(Brass) Flute = Prostitute
Fraiser (Crane) = Pain
(Georgio) Armani = Sarnie, Sandwich
Inspector (Morse) = Brown Sauce
Jimi (Hendrix) = Appendix
Johnny Vaughn = Porn
Pirate Ship = Pile of Shit
Pony (and Trap) = Crap
Sri Lanka = Wanker

*The opinions of Dunc the Punk do not reflect those of the Reglar Wiglar or, quite possibly, anyone anywhere.

The Struggle (Deathwish)

Dunc's pot and pan Ray always used to say "if you can't say something nasty, don't say anything at all." So Dunc will cast this record aside without further comment and head down to his local battle.

Forgive Nothing (Volcom)

The drummer in Dunc's band, Shit The Bed, is nicknamed Chaos because he's a no-talent shit sack who can't keep time. Dunc only keeps him around because he owns a working slice. Amazingly, these metal no-marks are so bad they make him look like a fucking rock god. Unforgivably wank.

Trauma (Live Wire)

Dunc would rather catch knobrot off a soap-dodging slapper than sit through another emo album ever again. So, the fact that Dunc had to listen to this record after getting the bad news from the doc was a particularly cruel slice of Donald Duck. Traumatic indeed.

Rebuild/Reform (Orange Peal)

Dunc's favourite movie death is in Wanted: Dead or Alive, where Rutger Hauer shoves a grenade in Gene Simmons' North 'n' South, and pulls the pin. This troop of sod apes are so bad, they deserve at least five grenades each, and maybe some dynamite up the ringpiece for good measure.

Organizing Our Neighborhood (Thorp)

This lot obviously think they are hard as monkeys. Well, if they think that they have a chance of organizing Dunc's neighbourhood, they'll have to take on the Inter City Firm, and that ain't gonna be pretty. Better watch your Fleetwoods, North Side Queens.

Variations (Initial)

The cover of this record has a naked bint wrapped in cling film on it. Which reminds Dunc of a website he stumbled across while trying to download the latest Abi Titmuss home movie. In it some Bacardi, who is clearly Patrick Swayze, writes stories about Roy Orbison being wrapped in cling-film. Fuck knows why, but it's infinitely more interesting than listening to these indie cock socks.

Unbroken (Victory)

Dunc has always thought that hypnotizing someone into topping themselves would be a perfect murder. Although for it to be truly perfect, it'd be best not to reveal the plan in a world-renowned music publication. No problem mentioning it here then.

Our Worlds Divorce (RocketStar)

Don't get Dunc started on his divorce. The scabby old tart runs off with her boss and then expects to get half of Dunc's crosby. Just Dunc's luck that he ends up with a female garden gate, who buys into the argument that pressuring your missus into wife-swapping somehow constitutes emotional distress.

Up All Night (Universal)

Up All Night? Sounds like a Viagra ad campaign slogan or something. You'd need it too, if you wanted to come anywhere close to getting a lob on for these limp-dick Jam rip-off merchants. Razorlight? Razor shite, more like.

Straylight Run (Victory)

This record is so fucking bland you'd expect to hear it on one of those poxy shows on the KY Jelly where nancy boys over--intellectualize every fucking aspect of their lives in the hopes they might get to cop a feel of a set of carpets. With song titles like 'Existentialism on Prom Night' you won't need Dunc to tell you what tremendous cunts they are, but he will anyway: Cunts!

The Reglar Wiglar Guide to Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (Cockney Rhyming Slang)

Slice (Pan) = Van
Pot and Pan = Old Man, Father
Battle (Cruiser) = Boozer, Pub
Donald Duck = Luck
North 'n' South = Mouth
Monkey's (Tails) = Nails
Fleetwood (Mac) = Back
Bacardi Breezer = Geezer
Patrick Swayze = Crazy
KY Jelly = Telly, TV
Carpets (and Rugs) = Jugs, Tits
Crosby (Stills & Nash) = Cash
Garden Gate = Magistrate, Judge

*The opinions of Dunc the Punk do not reflect those of the Reglar Wiglar or, quite possibly, anyone anywhere.

Perhaps, I Suppose... (The Militia Group)

I suppose, perhaps these twats think this is good. Well, Dunc the Punk KNOWS that it sucks the long one. Bunkum.

Sounds Like (Reticulated)

Sounds like a piss-poor sack of shite from a bunch of sad twats to Dunc the Punk. Complete pony.

Watermark (Sub City)

Watermark? Skidmark more like! Bunch of useless tossers. I shit 'em.

When Fortune Smiled (Hopeless)

Here's a story for you. One day some total dickheads release a load of fuckin' bollocks. The end.

Apparatus EP (Searching for Cereal)

Why did these fuckwits even bother? Dunc the Punk has heard better sounds coming from his arse after a curry. Utter wank.

Logic & Loss (Asian Man)

If these nonces ever wander into Dunc the Punk's manor he'll kick two shades of shit out of 'em. I urge you to do the same. The opinions of Dunc the Punk do not reflect those of the Reglar Wiglar or, quite possibly, anyone...anywhere.

*The opinions of Dunc the Punk do not reflect those of the Reglar Wiglar or, quite possibly, anyone anywhere.

With Hopes of Starting Over... (Drive-Thru)

Dunc hopes that this piss-awful jism never starts over. Stop now you shitcunts.

Lifer (Republic/Universal)

Lifer eh? Just like Dunc's mate Big Ron. He got life for killing a copper. These shit-stinking fuckers should get life for killing music. MI6 Lunchbox (Kung Fu) In London yer lunchbox is yer bollocks. That's the only thing Dunc has to say about this festering cack.

Less Hits More Tits (Hopeless)

Oh fer fuck's sake. I'd rather split me own metus than suffer this putrid wank again. Even the norks on the cover are bosh. SAETA Structure in this World (Recurving) The only structures in this world that Dunc cares about are pubs and curry houses. Dunc hopes he never hears this minging toss played in either.

Beast of British (Deck Cheese/High Speed)

Pukka! Proper British punk and none of yer whiny emo piss or nu-grunge-lite shite. Mind you, it would be even better if it included a track by Dunc's band, Shit The Bed.

*The opinions of Dunc the Punk do not reflect those of the Reglar Wiglar or, quite possibly, anyone anywhere.

Drunken Violence (Revelation)

Dunc loves drunken violence. Not the record, which is about a much fun as the squits, but actual drunken violence. Saturday afternoons down at Upton Park to watch the Hammers, sink a Nelson Mandela or twelve, then chase down the Chelsea scum and kick several shades of shit out of 'em. Lovely jubbly. GBH Ha Ha (Go-Kart) Want to know what they're laughing at? Simple. All you fuckin' septics and your pitiful attempts at punk rock. Learn from the masters you bleedin' ponces

Headstrong (RCA)

Dunc has a stronger head than most. It comes in useful for head-butting useless pillocks like this lot in the Chevy Chase. Rage Against The Machine? Rage against my chin, more like. THE RISE Signal to Noise (Ferret Music) Dunc hates this record more than anything in the world, and that includes Chelsea fans and the ex-wife Traci. The Rise have songs called shit like "The Fallacy of Retrospective Determinism," for fuck's sake. Cunts of the highest order.

Bad Mother Trucker (Victory)

Dunc actually recommends you track down a copy of this record. But don't buy it! Just commit the faces of the sniveling muppets responsible to memory. Then, track them down and shove a ten-foot pole up their Gary Glitter.

Thirty-Two Frames (Revelation)

Just last week Dunc went out for a few frames of snooker with Derek The Mouth. Several Britneys were drunk and a decent belt buckle was had, but when Dunc came back from taking a Donald Trump he catches Del Boy trying to cheat. Long story short Derek's famous mouth is now wired shut. That'll learn the muppet. This record? Yeah, it's OK.

The Ultimate Escape (Kung Fu)

The Great Escape is Dunc's favourite film. Steve McQueen tries to escape from a Nazi prison camp. Sorted. The Ultimate Escape, however, is a record by a bunch of tosspots that should be thrown in a Nazi prison camp. Dunc likes the bint that sings though, she looks like a right sort.

Steady as She Goes (Victory)

This lot look like a bunch of pikeys. And Dunc fuckin, hates pikeys. The arse-splittingly bad ska-punk on this record only makes Dunc hate them more. Fuck off out of it pikeys.

The Reglar Wiglar Guide to Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (Cockney Rhyming Slang)

Chevy Chase = Face
Nelson Mandela = Stella (Artois)
Britney (Spears) = Beers
Belt Buckle = Chuckle
Donald Trump = Dump, shit
Gary Glitter = Shitter, anus
Septic (Tank) = Yank

*The opinions of Dunc the Punk do not reflect those of the Reglar Wiglar or, quite possibly, anyone...anywhere.

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