If ever a genre tag has been misused and abused over the last decade or so, it's ‘punk-jazz’. Often, it's used as a lazy way of signifying music that uses jazz-derived arrangements to negotiate the appeal of a raucous thrash. But the debut album from this multinational trio cuts closer to the crux of the matter than most other candidates. On pieces like ‘Lala-Lala’, simple, punchy tenor hooks and staccato, gunshot snare cracks provide a sense of barefaced urgency, while Rasmussen's shrieking, nails-ona- chalkboard alto skronk whips up the energy to thrilling heights. It's all about the attitude. But there's clearly some serious compositional thought going on here, too, with the trio fully exploring the spindly sonorities created by their bassfree instrumentation and lapsing into extended interludes of fragile, almost transparent quietude. Any band that manages to sound like a collision of The Stooges, Captain Beefheart, Albert Ayler and the Art Ensemble Chicago is all right by me.