So the Pro-Tools are a damn good example of Adelaide hard rock (none of this ‘punk’ nonsense); they’d barely played a gig before they’d got their racket onto whatever it is they’re using instead of tape; asbestos by the sound of it. Yeah, you can pity the poor buggers who live near these noisy bastards.

These guys have been around awhile. The only way it shows is in the excellent playing. The rest just gets up and boots you round the house. Recorded damn well and damn loud by Josh Barohn this is hard, high energy stuff, it seems that Pro-Tools desperately want to leap off the vinyl and punch you in the throat.

For all the bluster of that notable fluffy bunny PETE THE STUD HOWLETT (I gather you’re supposed to bellow the name as the bloke has difficulty with the capslock button). The reason "they said the band shouldn’t form" is, I suppose cos John Scott (The Mark Of Cain) was in the band, and one gathers that ginormous egos (regarded with some amusement in this town) were expected to split the rehearsal studio apart.

"You Wanna Make Me Wanna Cheat On My Girlfriend" opens, with solid riffing and structure that you’re gonna want to play and play again. It’s a radio hit.

"Succubus" hits you in the face and fucks off before you know where you are. Fuck.

"Sympathy Root" reminds me of the Dolls if they’d been brought up in the same dump Jimmy Barnes did. The substance of the song you can figure out for yourselves. Christ knows what the Americans would make of this, yet in some ways the USA is their natural market.

There’s a killer version of a pre-Joy Division (ie Warsaw) song which confirms what we already knew - if Curtis hadn’t been so miserable and morally conflicted we’d be dealing with a monstrous HM band without the crap monster imagery and smacking Akkadakka into the ground. Even Lemmy would have been forced to raise an eyebrow. The Pro-Tools tackle said hallowed ground with what sounds like a nail-gun, a pavement saw and army boots. It’s mighty fine.

And the download-only version of Chinese Rocks is suitably choked and grimy, too.

Yeah. Damn good. You can play it loud and to death if you like. Put simply, a fine band to have on if you want to disrupt someone you hate’s wedding. With any luck they play funerals as well, so if you really disliked Aunt Mavis, now’s your chance.

The first 100 copies of Misanthro-PC is on tender pink (or pig) vinyl, with the next two hundred in Ian Curtis black - but both editions have a different cover.

Frankly, this is a band worth seeing. Certainly worth shelling out the shrapnel for the disc.

Book ‘em, Barman.

rollingrollingrollingrolling Four fucking bottles (and a bottle of Jack)

Conquest of Noise on the Web