North East England has, of course, a rich pedigree in producing very fine melodic punk bands.  But while much of this tradition is rooted in a sense of the melancholy, of histories lost and of futures unrealised, Irked’s bristling debut EP is focused rather more on our immediate predicaments.

Across the five tracks, the propulsive rhythm section injects a surging garage punk energy as the taut, lean guitars unleash riffage that shudders and jolts with a sinewy vigour.  Meanwhile, the vocals veer restlessly from urgent yelps to sardonic drawls by way of rhythmic diatribes, the only constants are a bracing intensity and a distinctive Tyne & Wear cadence.

The spasmodic fury of Snakes and the blues fuelled eruption of Crippling Empath sit either side of the rollicking Backstreets, which builds to a fierce crescendo as it confronts predatory male behaviour (‘It happens once, you let it slide, he didn’t really mean it, he’s a really nice guy’).  The vibrantly squalling Lanzarote charts the decline in the standards of public life through the tongue-in-cheek lens of family holidays, although the track’s repeated mantra of ‘The worst is still coming’ perhaps remains more pertinent than any of us would like.  Then Move, and its tales of everyday frustration (‘Step away from the trigger before you press send’), brings proceedings to a boisterously infectious climax.