Managing to sound like a flight of stairs falling down a flight of stairs; loud, primitive and Brighton's finest noiseniks are the soundtrack to a sinister surfer B Movie, a bad Vegas dream with a chorus of amphetamine-Elvis sixties club singers. And, boy, do they need you to bleed for the cause. Two parts Ramone, three parts Iggy, one part new wave wild card kicking and screaming. The Cramps are in the dock and Lemmy is prosecution witness. A thoroughly spirited ragbag of blues, booze and bad-time Stooges punkus rockus of brain-melting guitars and scowling vocals. Goth gloom dismembered under strobes; foot-to-the-floor car-jack extremes on a metric tonne of hallucinogens. Now THAT'S rock ‘n' roll.

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