Appetite for Resurrection

Being compared to Rancid is the least of Armstrong's worries. Some punks have labeled her a gold digger as well. But in the end, she says working with her husband and the Epitaph gang is more a community thing than a business deal. "A lot of our friends ended up on Hellcat," says Armstrong. "Timothy started the label for his friends, and now Lars [Frederiksen, Rancid's guitarist] is on there and Matt Freeman [Rancid's bassist] has something coming out and the Dropkick [Murphys] are there too. It's definitely a family business."

According to Armstrong, the new version of the Distillers also feels more like a family. She met new drummer Andy (no last name) when the Distillers were on tour with his other band, the Nerve Agents, and new bassist Ryan (also no last name) at a record store. (Rose still plays second guitar.) Although Armstrong is the only member of the Distillers not currently living in the Bay Area, she still says it's a tight unit. "We were all born in the same year -- except Rose is a little younger -- and we have a policy of honesty, which you need in a family. There's got to be trust and honesty. So now it feels right, it feels really cohesive."

The functional family will release its sophomore effort this January. On Sing Sing Death House, Armstrong revels in her newfound voice, a spit-gobbing yowl that claws its way from low and husky to hard and heavy. Every song is served with a sneer or a snarl, with Armstrong leaving fang marks in a number of social issues. "Sick of It All" links boys who shoot their classmates with girls who fight eating disorders. "Hate Me" rants about self-hate and suicide, and "Desperate" slams down on heroin addiction. The songs are short and bittersweet, with revved-up old-school riffs and catchy melodies. Throughout, Armstrong creates anthems for the disaffected, and the band parades them around with rowdy singsong sensibilities. "Everyone is feeling alienated," says Armstrong of the subjects of her tunes. "That's the thing that we have in common. The songs [on Sing Sing] are about trying to live in the day in order to survive."

Armstrong's songwriting has improved noticeably since Distillers, which felt like a fired-up fighter swinging at multiple targets. Gone are the endlessly repeated "fuck yous" and vague references to bludgeoned love affairs and misunderstood girls. While Sing Sing doesn't feature tricky wording -- most of the stories are pretty straightforward -- both the subject matter and the delivery show Armstrong's ability to realize her present strengths while taking an honest look at her past. "The Young Crazed Peeling" starts out with Armstrong's mom raising her alone, then moves on to watching people die and getting "smacked off your head," and ends with her current stability: "I love a man from California/ He's the prettiest thing/ We've got the same disorder."

Listening to the album is like watching a Super 8 film that takes you from Armstrong's days in the alleys of Melbourne to the streets of Los Angeles -- zooming out to reach fucked-up teens and zooming in to wrestle with Brody's personal issues. And while the stories may be the same ones told by junkies, punks, and runaways across the country, Armstrong delivers her messages with an unmatched ferocity.

"This is one of the best new bands to come out in a long time," says Brett Gurewitz. "People oughta pay attention."