You might not quite recover from Brad Eberhard’s awkward, gangling vocal or Wounded Lions’ equally haphazard brand of skinned, fuzzy garage pop but you won’t switch off either. Well, not straight away. The Los Angeles band’s debut is as rough around the edges as a half-chewed hobnob but somewhere, battling away, is a Pavement kind of pretty. Dirty, dishevelled and likely to sound the exact same whether they’d played in your front room or a proper venue, ‘Wounded Lion’ is rife with intent, even if it’s grunted, mumbled and absently warbled for the duration of the album. When they pull it together, though, tracks like ‘Carol Cloud’ and closer ‘Silver People’ hastily and filthily tailspin into their own Marshall dirge and makes you wonder what took them so long to warm up? Oddly endearing.

By Reef Younis

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