Blown Again - Blowers (Spooky Records/Chaputa! Records)

The Spooky Records website asserts; “Capitalising on their triple vocal attacks, blistering guitars and fast-paced tunes, ‘Blown Again’ is a tongue-in-cheek earworm of a ride laced with sick humour and shit-stirs. The album is chock full of “fuck you” themes, with tracks like ‘Shut The Fuck Up’, ‘Wipe My Ass’, ‘Slice’n’Dice’ and ‘Bad 4 U’ that jump off the record and grab you by the throat.”

Spooky also reckons: “For fans of The Spits, Jay Reatard, Wipers, Mean Jeans, Oblivians, The Cavemen, Wet Ones”. Mind, I gotta say I'm somewhat ignorant there.

So, to this bad-tempered old goat, what do Blowers sound like?

FULL-ON FUCKYOU FUZZ HAMMER THOR CHORDS CRUSH DESTROY

Right, well, I might've got carried away there. First, I had the volume up and they fucking blew my head off. Second, very few bands can combine the full rush punch of rawk and mix it with a gloriously sharp pop sensibility.

Look, a lot of bands have aspects of that blend, and you love a lot of them. But Blowers are damned special - and frankly you can't ignore them. Play these thugs at a party with a pile of folks under 24 and you'll have a new underground movement.

These vets play tough, contemptuous rock'n'roll with attitude, a vast hellish sound, bags of swank and killer lyrics. This is their second LP, the first one sold quickly - I gather Spooky have a couple of black vinyl copies left.

Sorry, I should qualify that “vets” remark - it implies “old”. I'm 60. And I remember discovering music like this in my very early teens, when everyone in their 20s was old, and anyone over 30 was thoroughly past it. Except for the people making great art - everyone else I wrote off as background hiss.

Blowers are making the most raucous, rancid pop I've heard in years - I like to think my 13-year-old self would have worn the record flat in two months' constant playing and upsetting the neighbourhood. Blowers don't so much “rock” as blow your arse inside out so it looks like you've got an  enormous muddy raspberry poking out your trews.

Who are they? You probably already know, but they’re Kit Convict (vox, guitar), Andrew Porter (vox, guitar), Shannon Aswell (vox, drums) and Pip McMullan (bass). Boy, do they sound irritable. Malcontents with brilliant, heart-squeezing harmonies; “Shut the Fuck Up” is a particular favourite, as is “Wipe My Ass”.

I don't know who's writing the lyrics, but by god they're sharp. Attitudes way smarter than most "artists". If there's a comparison to be made, it would be more to the earlier Ramones (check the vocal style on “Let's Age Disgracefully”) - but the differences are big, noisy and palpable. They're a lot rougher, for one thing, and a lot blunter. There's bitterness, too, and even wisdom - something you don't expect in a rock'n'roll band, at least not one this danceable.

I love the way their whole sound is like you've tied a bunch of deSantis' good ol' boys to the back of the ute and taken them for an extended scrape to Alice Springs. Far from a smooth and sensual sound, the album was recorded in a shared warehouse space on a cold and blurred weekend, engineered and mixed by Loki Lockwood, and mastered by Mikey Young. What the production actually sounds like is they took a cheese-grater to at least two larynxes, and I don't know what that bass player is playing but it absolutely is not a bass. An earthmover? A pavement saw? 

As you may gather, they've got something of a sense of humour, not that you'll be laughing in front of them, you'll be too busy dancing like the geriatric dickheads we all are. To make matter worse, you'll be singing along as well. Bay City Rollers with power tools.

This is a very short review. Tough shit, all you need to know I've already said. From putting it on to sitting down to dash this out before putting it on again, I'll just emphasise - get Blowers records from the label or on Bandcamp.

Where can you find the band, if you want to see them? Spooky reckons, “in the dive bars and shit-holes of Melbourne”.  Well, I need to book a holiday.  Failing that, bring the band to your own shitty town.

...and no, I'm not joking with that rating! CRANK BLOWERS! TINNITUS RULES OK!