‘I have no will, my will is thin, Let me swill…I lay still, Pondering why? So unfulfilled, What a waste, don’t have the taste’ (I Am Wrong)

Take riff upon riff with proper heft, undeniably catchy yet just shy of ugly in their intent.  Then lace these with lashings of downcast melody and squalling, rock’n’roll leaning solos. Before, locking in a rhythm section that determinedly favours burly, barrelling velocity over speed.  Now, you are ready to say hello to Winnipeg’s Jug.

Head is Jug’s debut album and follows up their 2024 7-inch, Or Not.  It sees them continue to hone a sound that teeters between the darkly infectious and something altogether more malevolent.  The gutturally growled, desperation drenched vocals harness this tension perfectly, a tortured diatribe of the doubts and insecurities that relentlessly stalk our innermost thoughts.

As they rampage from the lumbering anguish of I Am Wrong to the melancholy flecked Quittin Time, and then from the spiteful riffage of The Void to the sombre swells of the closer New Apathy, it proves a thoroughly potent brew.  The closest proxy I can think of would be the unholy union of Gag and Wiccans dropped into an episode of Letterkenny solely for the purposes a wholesome bar room brawl with the locals.