The Worlds Newest Bootleggers by The Reaction: A Raw, Gritty Love Letter to Mod Rock
Alright, let me just say this—The Worlds Newest Bootleggers isn’t your average rock album. Released in 2018 by Russia’s own The Reaction (on the killer indie label Bacha Bazi Tapes), it’s a punchy ode to mod rock that feels like someone handed you a leather jacket and said, “Here, live a little.” This thing hits hard, fast, and leaves you with more than a few songs stuck in your head.
First off, can we talk about "Taste For Life"? Damn. This track kicks the door down right from the start. It’s got this raw energy that makes you wanna grab somebody by the shoulders and yell, “Do you feel that?!” The guitar riffs are sharp enough to cut glass but still carry this weirdly smooth groove. And the vocals—they’re not perfect, thank god. They’ve got grit, like they were recorded late at night after one too many smokes. There’s something so real about it, like it doesn’t care if you love it or hate it; it just is. That kind of confidence is rare these days.
Then there’s “Hard Rain In The City,” which might as well be my personal anthem now. I mean, who hasn’t felt like life’s throwing everything at them all at once? The lyrics hit different when you’re walking home in shitty weather, headphones on, pretending you're starring in some moody movie. The bassline here is INSANE—it’s what I imagine would happen if Joy Division decided to party with The Jam. By the time the chorus comes around, you’re either screaming along or silently crying in solidarity. Either way, mission accomplished.
Now, don’t get me wrong—the whole album slaps. Tracks like “(I’ll Never Be Your) Boyfriend” bring the sass, while “Don’t Want You Around” delivers a cold shoulder so icy it could freeze vodka (very fitting for a Russian band, tbh). But it’s those two tracks—"Taste For Life" and “Hard Rain In The City”—that burrow into your brain and refuse to leave.
What strikes me most is how unapologetically human this record feels. It’s messy, passionate, and full of heart—like a Polaroid snapshot of a wild night out. Listening to it feels less like consuming music and more like eavesdropping on someone else’s chaotic, beautiful life.
Oh, and here’s the kicker: halfway through writing this review, I realized I’ve been spelling “mod” wrong in my notes. Like… five times. Maybe that sums up this album too. Flawed, maybe, but unforgettable.
