This is completely generic third-generation Exploited-style punk rock with few redeeming factors. Hailing from Philadelphia, the Virus spike their Mohawks to the sky and knock out a bunch of songs that sound exactly like G.B.H. or the Exploited. The song "Rats in the City" is nearly an exact copy of G.B.H.'s various songs about rats. The Virus can play their instruments competently and the singer's voice is gruff like the singers of the aforementioned bands, but nothing at all distinguishes the Virus. There are no original ideas going on upstairs for these Mohawked gents. During the first decade of punk, a band like this would have had a difficult time releasing an album. Maybe someone might press a 7" for them. Nowadays, every band on the block has its own CD.
Nowhere to Hide Review
by Adam Bregman