Cardioplosive

I've been teaching myself to touch type with an online course. Well, I already can touch type, but I only use 4 digits - I figure there must be a more efficient method, and I'm starting to get RSI in my right index finger. But, with years of bad habits, it's bloody hard. I sit there typing in groups of 4 specilaly selected letters & trying to get a high enough score to progress to the next lesson. It's a like a highly frustrating, and deeply boring, computer game. But, then all the computer games I grew up with basically boil down to pressing groups of letters at just the right times - amazing what you can do with a few blocky sprites and bleepy noises, eh?

JUNKIE BRUSH - HEARTS & MINES EP (Rivet Gun Records)

Considering that punk was always supposed to succeed on enthusiasm rather than musicianship ("Here are three chords: now form a band"), it's strange how rarely we come across a convincing punk group. Luckily the Green Day breed of Play-Doh punkers are now fading away, but even the more traditional bands tend to lack bite. Is it because this musical primitivism is ultimately pretty boring ("You've got no ideas: now stop the band"), or is it just that nobody round here has the same sort of nihilist anger that seemed to be common currency in the late '70s?

Whatever the answer, Junkie Brush are definitely in the running for best local punk act. Oddly, though, their greatest strength seems to lie in their exactness, attention to detail and their ability to hold back and control their performances, none of which are generally recognised punk values. This new EP, which is by far the closest they've got to capturing the menace of their live shows, has plenty of punk energy in approach, but is incredibly precise in construction. Somehow, that's a contradictory mixture, like a gleaming and lovingly personalised getaway vehicle. So every time we call Junkie Burhs "punk", it should be understood that there are a definite flavours of clinical US hardcore in the blend.

This isn't to say that Junkie Brush don't have a taste for the brash, absurd and cartoonish that personifies punk - the hilarious title of the first track, "Exhume His Corpse (And Make Him Dance For Money)" makes this clear. And if "Now She's Dead" gets a bit two-dimensional in its childish refrain of "I don't give a fuck, you don't give a fuck", the sneering chorus of "Yes, she was an animal" brings forth pleaant memories of The Sex Pistols on "Bodies".

To show that they have a bit of variation to their repertoire, "Find Another Way" lurches long with a blooze swagger, and the Nicole Steal remix of old favourtie "Monkey Grinder" brings an unexpectedly screamadelic baggy sound to the fore. Simplicity and directness are still the order of the day, however, and this record reminds us that sometimes that's all you need. So long as it's honest. And very very loud.