YOBS

On their debut album, new Liverpool four-piece YOBS waste absolutely no time dousing you in a kerosene-soaked garage-punk cocktail, standing over your trembling body, match lit and ready to fall. It’s a burn-it-to-the-ground nihilistic blast of pure energy that at no point lets up; a take-no-prisoners drive-by through the derelict streets of a decaying society, scattergun shots ringing out in their aim to take down those responsible for this slide into seemingly permanent putrification. YOBS are the gang that stalks the shit-stained alleyways with a menace that unifies all to fight back. They are battering ram…with their own theme tune.

Sometimes, when the world is burning around you, subtlety is no opinion. And thus YOBS Theme explodes directly with its primitive chant, the band name repeated ad infinitum over the ramped-up fuzz-crunching sound that defines the whole album. The drums are pounded to oblivion with spitfire rolls that spin out, underpinning the compressed vocals. It’s a rallying call to arms that stalks and struts before the band crash into Cyanide. Inspired by the personification of the witchhunt, the mob that bullies and crushes the marginalised; the song is a homage to Alan Turing, an incendiary blast that turns on the world that restricted his freedom to the point that he could take it no more. We may have moved forward since then, but the plights are still real for many and, in taking forth the battle cry, the band are firmly aligning themselves with those under the iron heel.