The greatest difference between this band and The White Stripes––an act that these lads will no doubt garner some comparison to? The Mag Seven doesn’t suck. Oh, sure, we’ve heard a lot of these surf-inflected grooves before, known the rage and hype of hearing about “garage” rock and all that hoopla but these cats are for real, daddy. FOR REAL. Witness the dangerous curves of “Dick Cemetery,” the heavy romp of “Ninja Please,” or the beach blanket bikini kill bingo of “Strange Wool” for more. Grab some chilled gin, a groovy bunch of chicks and fill your night with these none-too-long songs and thoughts of a time when music felt a whole lot more pure but when the intentions in the hearts of men were still less than honorable. – Jedd Beaudoin (2007, The Daily Copper)