White Lung - Paradise

Needle-sharp and packed full of vigour, White Lung’s return shoots straight for the veins. It’s a rush of adrenaline in a world swarmed by fuzzed-out pretenders - a welcome antidote to the haze modern punk increasingly finds itself drowning in. Thundering out of the gates with a glistening synthetic twinkle, not unlike the start-up sound of a next-gen games console, opener ‘Dead Weight’ hitting like every Street Fighter special move at once. From there on out, it’s uppercut after uppercut.

The laser-guided precision of Kenneth William’s guitar lines burn brightest, every slick-as-fuck string sounding carved straight from diamond. Paired with Mish Way’s snarling vocal, it’s all realms of science fiction wrapped up in one punk-laced package, like bumping into a werewolf on the International Space Station and him pummelling you round the head with a Telecaster.

That’s not to say there’s no nuance amongst the madness. ‘Below’ borders on balladry, whereas ’Vegas’ sounds torn straight from the filth of the gutter. White Lung push themselves to every corner of the universe on ‘Paradise’, presenting a beautiful vision of 22nd Century punk in the process.