You’ll have probably read 28 reviews already comparing London’s raw-power blues explosion Joe Gideon & The Shark to The White Stripes , and ever the pack animal, we’ll have some of that too. Hell, they’re brother and sister. They are a whole load more Detroit than they are Dalston. And their music is an enthralling meld of the theatrical and poetic, the gritty, rhythmical and impulsive. You’ll also notice, if you skim to the end of the review, that we concur with the majority of those other 28 reviews you’ve probably read by declaring this all too brief 9-track steel-girder right-hook of a record as an industrial sized helping of aceness. Also take The Kills as a reference point, but don’t be held back by that, ‘Harum Scarum’ feels much more homespun by intriguing vagabond tendencies. But the point is that two is definitely company here, any more input would unsettle the balance and density, and their hind legs probably wouldn’t kick so emphatically. And you’ll want to look more to The Stooges and Black Lips for tone, though not exclusively, ‘Kathy Ray’ for instance is a deliciously low-key bass-drum nudged alt-country organ-based shimmer, though not forsaking the man Gideon’s barbarously effective and inimitable way with words (“before she left she told me about her life, how she’d been a backing singer for the Eurhythmics at Live Aid in 1985,” for instance – like their geography stands at odds with their sense of place, their lyrics in turn stand at odds back). His vocals too are beautifully unhindered by lazy convention, sounding live like Mark E Smith, expressive and baritone like Nick Cave and thoughtful and involved as Bill Callahan. And the yarns he weaves with those tonsils really dress the exploding Clinic-esque elasticity of ‘Hide & Seek’, the heart-stopping Lou Reed through Low fragility of ‘Anything You Love That Much You Will See Again’ and rumbling witticisms of ‘Civilisation’ up into something so much more than siblings hitting things in a garage. An industrial sized helping of aceness.