‘There’s no money round here…It’s so austere and overrun with fear, I can still hear the pounding of the hammer, I can still see the workers queuing for the dole…Livelihoods stole through social control’ (Round Here)

‘Industry? What industry?’ is the forlorn cry that not only sparks the rabid closing breakdown to Round Here but provides the ignition for the wider convictions that propel Rat Cage.   It traces our current national malaise back to the vindictive process of deindustrialisation that was unleashed during the 1980s, a function of the totalising logic of the free market – robbing people of homes and quality work as well as hollowing out public services.  Even now the political class fails to make the connections, allowing extremists to ferment blame that is directed on those least able to protect themselves.

In the studio, Rat Cage is the one-person project of Bry Suddaby, before evolving into the rollicking live band that has rampaged across our stages for the past decade.  This is the project’s third album and follows up 2023’s excellent Savage Visions.  And have no fear, there is not the slightest hint of the edge being dulled – Not Asking For Much is arguably Rat Cage’s most venomously singular statement yet.

The central crucible in which Suddaby forges his sound remains steadfastly resolute.  Surging d-beat rhythms, laceratingly sharp guitar, blues fuelled solos, and rasping snarls evoke the more rock’n’roll inclined expressions of Swedish käng.  He then laces this bracing velocity, perhaps a touch more liberally than in the past, with more avowedly melodic influences from 1980s’ UK hardcore.  The vibrantly melodic Cracks They Show is raucously anthemic and Grass Is Greener is indelibly stamped with the rousing spirit of anarcho-punk, even the cavorting piano that sparks into life at the climax.  Meanwhile, Spiders In A Jar seethes with spiteful intent, before the title track brings us to a close with a boisterously infectious stomp.