"People weren’t into that major label record, to put it mildly. My girlfriend at the time smashed the promotional cassette copy I gave her and walked away in disgust. People were shell-shocked at the glossier production: I honestly saw a man with a Jawbreaker tattoo weeping at the record store where I worked. Schwarzenbach had undergone surgery to remove a polyp from his vocal chords, making his gnarled vocals sound cleaner. It didn’t matter to us that the polyp had been painful, and maybe life threatening—we’d lost our voice as he regained his. Part of it was the times—the post-Nevermind label feeding frenzy hitting people who thought they were immune to it—and part of it was because, really, they were more than just a band to people: Jawbreaker articulated why you got into punk, and once you did, why you stayed there. Like the musical companions to the punk rock zine Cometbus, their songs felt like how-to manuals, as well as holy writ."