Attack and Revenge by City Baby’s Definite GBH Collection: A Punk Rock Riot That Still Kicks Ass
Let’s cut to the chase—GBH’s Attack and Revenge By City Baby’s Definite GBH Collection is one of those albums that grabs you by the throat, shakes you around a bit, and leaves you gasping for more. Released in 1986 under Roadrunner Records and Clay Records, this punk/hardcore masterpiece feels like a time capsule from Europe’s gritty underground scene. It’s raw, unapologetic, and doesn’t care if you’re ready for it or not.
The album stitches together two iconic releases—"City Baby’s Revenge" (tracks 1-13) and "City Baby Attacked by Rats" (tracks 14-26)—into one gnarly beast of a collection. With production credits split between Mike Stone (for the first half) and Chris Nagle + GBH themselves (for the second), there’s a noticeable shift in tone but never a dip in energy. And let’s not forget the songwriting crew—Williams, Abrahall, Blyth, Lomas—all bringing their A-game to craft tracks that hit hard both musically and lyrically.
Now, onto the meat of it—the songs. I could ramble about all 26 tracks, but we’d be here till next week. Instead, I’ll focus on two standouts that have stuck with me like gum on a shoe.
First up: “City Baby Attacked By Rats.” Holy hell, what a title, right? This track barrels out of the gate with buzzsaw guitars and vocals so snarling they might as well come with a warning label. The lyrics paint this grimy picture of urban chaos, where rats aren’t just pests—they’re symbols of survival gone wrong. You can practically smell the alleyways while listening. What makes this track unforgettable isn’t just its ferocity; it’s how it captures the claustrophobic vibe of city life without ever slowing down. It’s fast, dirty, and over before you know it—but man, does it leave an impression.
Then there’s “Drugs Party In 526,” which sounds exactly like what happens when boredom meets rebellion. The riff slams into your skull like a brick through a window, and the chorus is catchy enough to make even your grandma want to mosh. Lyrically, it’s pure punk poetry—a chaotic snapshot of excess and apathy wrapped in three minutes of sonic mayhem. Every time I hear it, I imagine some dingy flat packed with people who don’t give a damn about tomorrow. It’s reckless, fun, and oddly relatable if you’ve ever felt trapped in a dead-end situation.
What’s wild about this album is how it refuses to play nice. There’s no filler, no lazy moments—it’s just 26 tracks of relentless attitude. Whether it’s the nihilistic bite of “War Dogs” or the sneering sarcasm of “Bellend Bop,” every song has something to say, even if it’s shouted at top volume.
Looking back, Attack and Revenge feels less like a product of its time and more like a middle finger to anyone who thought punk was losing steam in the mid-’80s. GBH didn’t care about trends—they were too busy carving out their own corner of the rock world with razor blades and duct tape.
So yeah, this album kicks ass. But here’s the kicker—it also reminds me why music matters. Not because it’s polished or perfect, but because it’s real. Because sometimes, all you need is 26 tracks of pissed-off brilliance to remind you that life’s messy, loud, and worth fighting for.
Oh, and one last thing—don’t listen to this album alone. Crank it up, grab a friend, and prepare for things to get rowdy. Trust me, your neighbors will either hate you or thank you later.
