Rocket Records – March 31st
The harsh intro of guitar squelch warns of an impending brutality. Because around the corner lies the veteran Salford collective kicking against the pricks in gripping and powerful fashion. Gone are the flashy licks and woozy motorik jams of Mirror. Say hello to gritty bassline growls and the incendiary lyrics of ‘Real Man’, which explode: “He’s got a bomb in his pocket / And every night he’s going off like a rocket.” The album’s antagonistic political edge recalls a more expansive and oblique Fugazi as the band lurches from disquiet to pure rage with a flick of a wrist. If these five songs are a protest against the “killing of souls, joy and love” as bassist Chris Haslam suggests, they serve as a rather damning eulogy.