‘Finance my hands, Finance my brain, Finance my heart, Finance my pain, My body has a really high interest’ (Finance)

Dead end jobs and lives bought on credit.  Living hand to mouth as a wannabe dictator and his tech bro lackeys gorge at the trough.  We try and scroll away the anxiety on the same tools that entrench and enrich those same forces.  Who better to guide us through the fevered psyche of a nation on the brink than Cincinnati’s Choncy?

They are back with their third full-length blast of hardcore fuelled, wryly abrasive post-punk, following up 2024’s 20X Multiplier.  Scratchily agitated guitars writhe amid the taut bass lines and spryly resonant drums.  Everything is charged with a fizzing off-kilter energy, songs jerking and jolting with an almost demented sense of autonomy.

Meanwhile, the semi-shouted, sardonically repetitive vocals acerbically weave together an absurdist deconstruction of the twin forces of technology and consumerism as they contort, confine, and monetise our lives.  From the bristling convulsions of Scroller to the manic ‘la la las’ that grace the bouncing fervour of Job You Want, and then to the boisterously coiling Version Of A Version and the sinuously caustic climax of Finance, the energy, despite the palpable air of frustrated despondency, is utterly irrepressible.