There continues to be no shortage of shiny new retro punksters rolling off both the major and indie label conveyor-belts like kids just out of nappies and straight onto e-numbers, cheap liquor and the payroll of MTV2. So you probably wouldn’t be the only one out there craving a simple raucous cacophony of 3-chord idiocy that sounded like it was recorded onto the back of a cornflake packet in half the time it takes to listen back to it. And in that case you’ll be dribbling down your unwashed Undertones t-shirt for the latest out of the turnstiles at the recently rejuvenated Sub Pop records. The Thermals aren’t going to save anything, they’ll be lucky if they manage to hang around for their full five metaphorical minutes and with any fortune they’re all utter social incompetents incapable of doing anything other than this.
It’s so damn simple and so very nearly perfect, any other twist to the tale would ruin the whole thing. Seeing them live would also no doubt shatter the illusion, unless they were falling-apart-at-the-seams-shit, that’d keep everything intact, maybe. You see, that’s bound to be at least a touch more hi-fi than this, and though that wouldn’t be their fault exactly it just wouldn’t be right. But saying that, these are some crackling bastard tunes. Not that you’ll realise immediately, as they career around aimlessly like blind lemming fuck-ups on souped-up mopeds, bumping into each other in search of their own identities.
But during every track’s average of 2 minutes (longest track 2.43 / shortest 1.36), as they rattle forward at a generic full-throttle, which they all do, there is always a big bastard hook lying in wait with mischievous eyes and a bag of black-market adrenaline. Without fail. The best by a clear mile, ‘No Culture Icons’, kicks in instantly with some Buzzcocksien melodic fury, while ‘Out Of The Old And Thin’ hangs around till the 2 minute mark for a key change which spits out the murky celebration. ‘A Passing Feeling’ runs a close second in the best track scrap and a twist-encouraging drum break at 30 seconds cements this. Or gaffer-tapes it down anyway. Not a classic by a long stretch, but a fucking brilliant waste of half an hour.