The Los Angeles duo with names which read like porn actors' names, Dean Spunt and Randy Randall, embark on a splatter and splash tombola of psychedelic sonic punk rock over the course of this mighty dozen songs. Just for once the accompanying press sheet helps out in finding words how to describe this "thin layer of smog over the songs, simmering sock gazing tunes, revved and displacing enormous amounts of sound soil." Sleazy and yet still rather neat garage fuzz rock defines the style of this latest LP. With quite the 'oomph' that Ty Segall and all of his cohorts have become known for over the past ten to fifteen years, it runs in mad and maniac style through its riff-laid songs. Sock-gazing rather than indeed shoe-gazing, No Age smell a wee bit different. They can be bewildering when you're in the mood for mayhem such as on 'Cruise Control'. Yet they are very "american", as this album is somewhat of an homage to driving a car. Which these days we civilised Europeans hardly do. Granted, 'Snares Like a Haircut' hoots and toots like a starving Diesel machine. "Suspended. Where should I go?", the chorus line to the fourth track on 'Drippy', sums up the loose anxiety of 'Snares like a Haircut'. All of the time I felt like I was listening to the Jesus and MC5 Chain on it. The title track meanders through a wonderland of dreamscape garage punk rock noise just before the music becomes genuinely adventurous on 'Tidal' - perhaps one of this year's best little blasts. 'Secret Swamp' is also one of this year's finest recorded songs.