Their fiery brand of neck-snapping, hip-shaking, Punk 'n' Roll is a perfect album for a rowdy party or for fast driving.

Colour me impressed! This is a seriously kick arse Rawk 'n' Roll record that ought to come from the southern states of the USA, but in reality hails from Arboga in Sweden. This hairy 'n' lairy quartet play a supercharged fusion of Rock, Punk and rebel Country. Think a fucked-up version of The Georgia Satellites, Backyard Babies or The Supersuckers... then you'd be sort of getting there... sort of. Confused? You will be! It's good time, swaggering, debauched and sweaty music that's drenched in strong alcohol and raging with attitude.

Clocking in at a razor short thirty two minutes, this is an album that hits harder than a kickboxing Kylie Minogue, leaving you battered 'n' bruised yet seriously satisfied, and not at all averse to a little more! Guitarist/lead vocalist Johannes Carlsson actually sounds not unlike Justin Hawkins of The Darkness... just ballsier.

This is seriously shit-kicking stuff, blasting along in a series of short, sharp shocks, no fecking about, just heads down... and see you at the end. It's relentless, ragged and very exhilarating, about as subtle as a steel toe-capped boot to the happy sacks!

If I do have a criticism, it's that it all becomes a bit of a blur after a while – variety is most definitely not the spice of life for these Swedes, but it's a small gripe really. The Hawkins aren't about to re-write the book musically, but their fiery brand of neck-snapping, hip-shaking, Punk 'n' Roll is a perfect album for a rowdy party or for fast driving. All that's remains to say is raise a glass of what tickles your fancy to the latest in a long line of serious Rock 'n' Roll rebels... hell yeehaaw!

Chris O'Connor