‘Blinding white walls and giant ads, Smells of perfume and processed foods, Plastic shops selling plastic goods, There are the police ready for fun’ (Voice Hunger)

Like many of her counterparts, France currently seems trapped in an inexorable downward spiral, as a refusal to challenge entrenched economic inequality fuels political volatility and encourages an ever more dangerous flirtation with authoritarian panaceas.  Each country has its own particular flavour of conflict, with France’s manifesting itself in the twin cycles of urban social segregation and rural depopulation, while trying to swim against the universal tides of surveillance capitalism and atomising lives.

Brittany’s Toxic Rites have this poisonous cocktail firmly in their sights on this, their self-titled debut EP, as well as recognising the need to avoid nihilism in the face of what seems inevitable.  Yet the soundtrack to this venomous polemic is decidedly English – an absolutely searing reimagination of 1980s’ anarcho-punk.  Strident yet catchy semi-shouted vocals segue between melodic choruses, with just the right hint of theatre, and sneering rat-a-tat-tat rhythmic eruptions.

The tautly surging guitars and martial rhythm section ensure a vehemently contagious atmosphere.  From the searing convulsions of Voice Hunger to the infectious fury of Rural Song, by way of the soaring chorus that defines Take Care, each of the four tracks fizzes with an energy and structural invention that can’t help but make your heart skip just a little quicker.  And an anarcho-punk album that will have you two-stepping in your kitchen? Now that is hard to beat.