From what little knowledge I have of punk, I have determined that it’s a genre riddled with hits and misses. Fortunately though, I believe there have been more hits than there have misses. From the outset, I understand that it’s quite a political music - it carries a clear message, sometimes poignant, rather than just vomiting up a lot of waffle about rebellion and anarchy. However, as we all know simply from being people, having someone’s opinion wailed at you through stereo speakers can get rather tired. That’s when the trickiest formula comes to fruition; to have a band that plays not only great punk rock, but is loose on the politics too. This area is best occupied by bands like The Ramones and Iggy & the Stooges who have that magic combination of being darkly fun yet still driven by that raw power (pun intended). It’s a hard game to match up to, and it’s been attempted many times. Many people overshoot the balance completely; but then a collective from Illinois named The Heat Tape arrived to show them how it’s done.

Their debut opens with a track entitled “Spend It”, and it sounds exactly the way you’d expect it to sound - or, rather, exactly the way you’d want it to sound. The drums play out classically, an incessant adrenaline beat that shows no signs of giving up. The guitars screech and wail before folding into a steady rhythm. The vocals are scratchy and monotonous at times, and that sets up the blueprint for the entire LP. And while these might sound like negative features, they are absolutely not. They draw up the character of the band into this very glorious, very tangible domestic chaos.

However, the tone does shift before it becomes too same-y. The eleventh track, “Crackin’ Up”, is a slow-burner, possibly the punk rock ballad of the album. Very lazy drums accompany vocals that are quite Adam Green-esque in tone and lyric. It’s a track that slowly gathers pace and momentum before it transforms before one’s eyes into a most radiant leather-clad swan that keeps pecking at you to start a mosh pit.

The album’s best and brightest track is, without a doubt it’s coda, “Idle Man”; simply because it’s the most exciting of the bunch. The song seems to just throw everything to hell as guitars flame and drums incinerate in this great raging fire of pounding mania. Compared to it, the rest of the album seems like one giant teaser to this gargantuan finale that’s just so exciting and galvanic, you should be imprisoned if you sit still during it.

Granted, I sat still because I had to analyse it critically but I’m exempt.

The Heat Tape’s debut Raccoon Valley Recordings can only be described as a wholesomely good punk album. They draw classic influence, but not so much as to be lumped in with The Ramones Revisited. They’re repetitive, but only in that their tunes worm their way into your head and stay there without annoyance. They’re scuzzy, but that’s all part of the art.

They’re genuine, they’re messy and they’re not trying to sell you anything.

That’s a combination that make them wholly loveable.