Shedding a whole lot of dirt, sweat and melody, Blowing On The Devil’s Strumpet is a stimulating accumulation of fast-paced noise that takes you on a different trip each listen. With an extensive period of touring under their belts after the success of their self-produced Flight Test EP and its lead single ‘Chemical Motivation’, The Love Junkies have settled back down in hometown Perth to showcase their new material with Siiick Records.

Their single, ‘Television’, sets the frantic rhythm that fortifies the record, breaking down punchy instrumentals and howling vocals that fluctuate unapologetically between chants, hisses and melodic overtures. If there’s anything the record aims to deliver through the tenacious boil of lyrics and sound, it’s attitude – and lots of it. However, it isn’t all rock n’ roll; with ‘The Grieving Song (To My Homesick Daughter. To My Unborn Son.)’ delivering a glimmer of blues that gradually changes.

As the album progresses, there’s a genre-bending quality within its chords and rhythm, creating an omniscient, heavy and self-conscious mood underpinned in lyrical swings. With catchy guitar riffs and grungy vocals, ‘The Belly Of My Beast’, immediately presents itself as a somber chord clash confession, singing, “I’m scared to put those feelings down / I need you now.” It isn’t entirely wholesome, however, with ‘When I’m Looking In The Mirror…’ discarding their dense indie sound to deliver an audacious death-or-glory experience that’s both fast and socially terrifying.

When considering the album as a larger whole, it’s one of those records that demands volume in order to completely engulf you. Dark and ravenous, the energy of the release would be explosive on a live set, preceding each track with more pitiless angst, more zealous power and more honest brashness. After all, listening to an energetic rock garage release at a socially acceptable level can leave the sound half-ingested — but each to their own.

While Blowing On The Devil’s Strumpet is nothing revolutionary in the world of mischief grunge or amped-up indie rock, each track is a textured whirlwind of fuzzy energy and lyrical possessiveness that concretes The Love Junkies a formidable trio. It’s one of those releases that you want to genuinely hear live, preferably front-row next to some sweaty dude, and without reflection to the detrimental effects of ear-splitting sound.

8/10