BLOODSTAINS – s/t

It’s been said before – in my house, at least – but all the best punk music right now hails from the land Down Under. Stiff Richards, Split System, C.O.F.F.I.N., Polute… that’s before we even get into that ‘Smoko’ band and a whole heap of other mullet-wearing reprobates. To this stack of names, we must add another: Cutters. It’s a raucous squall they make, that’s for sure. Much like setting off rockets at a petrol station, they’re beautifully, terrifyingly explosive – ‘Psychic Injury’ is their second album, following 2021’s gleefully cacophonic ‘Modern Problems’. Much like their aforementioned fellow Aussies, you can trace some of their stomp back to the UK’s 70s pub rock scene, a good chunk of their chutzpah to Chris Bailey and Kim Salmon, and even more to the fact that hardcore feels once more like a re-energised scene filled with purpose and drive (…and other words that rock hacks use to make it clear that certain noises are Really Fucking Important Right Now). They’re among the finest exponents of this stuff and it’s a joy to hear it. With titles like ‘Landlord Nation’ and ‘An Ode To Shoplifting’, it doesn’t take a genius to identify their targets; with lyrics like ‘I’m the first of many suckers’ you can tell they’re not above self-deprecation, even as they rage gloriously about a system that’s rigged against us. The album drips – like an icicle in the Sahara – with righteous rage, and even when that anger feels knowingly futile (“I hate the public / Get away from me”), it’s delivered with such wide-eyed venom that it still feels potent as fuck. Whether operating a top velocity or through brutal rifferama, ‘Psychic Injury’ delivers in spades. Apply it to your ears forthwith.