Rhode Island’s Daughters are a rum bunch. Lest we forget, this is a band whose debut album lasted all of 11 minutes and featured such gems as ‘Pants, Meet Shit’ and ‘Mike Morowitz, The Fantasy Fuck’. Next came 06’s ‘Hell Songs’, a brain-melting explosion of fiddly Skin Graft-style noise-rock which marked frontmean Alexis Marshall’s transformation from shrieking burns victim to David Yow’s younger, drunker cousin. In some respects, this self-titled effort is a logical step forward for the band. Its songs are leaner and less oblique, yet still infused with that same leering menace and trademark Rhode Island abrasiveness. However, what really sticks out about this record is how much it, well, rocks. ‘The Hit’ is, to all intents and purposes, a straightforward pop song, replete with a swirling My Bloody Valentine-like guitar hook and Marshall’s strongest vocals to date. ‘Sweet Georgia Brom’ is a sweaty, slavering sex pest of a song assembled from equal parts The Birthday Party and Melt-Banana, while the deliciously sinister ‘The Dead Singer’ sounds like it could have been lifted directly off The Jesus Lizard’s ‘Liar’. If rumours of Daughters’ demise are indeed true then we can think of no better epitaph than this.