Wank

White Knuckle Ride

Knowing little of Southern California’s skainflected poppunk survivors Wank, naturally I searched online for information. Which on reflection was unwise, given their naughty-schoolboy name. Signed to Madonna’s Maverick label, and enjoying a brief flash of semi-fame in the late 90s, this Orange County quartet disbanded around the turn of the millennium. But with singer Bobby Amodeo thankfully healthy again after treatment for leukaemia, and former Offspring guitarist Higgins X-13 now on board, they’ve reunited to make their first album in 20 years.

Unfortunately their sound remains stubbornly stuck in generic 90s lightweight partyrock mode on blokey, shouty, beer-chugging moshpit stompers like We Wanna Rock and Blue Skies. Produced by Foo Fighters guitarist Chris Shiflett, Salvation is easily the best thing here, a grainy voiced chest thumper which soars and roars like Bruce Springsteen fronting Green Day. But otherwise these ageing fratboys remain the kind of interchangeable punk-lite filler act that clogs up the bottom end of every festival bill. A band called Wank lacking wit and subtlety? How unexpected.

Stephen dalton

He Who Cannot Be Named (second from left): living upto heavy expectations.

Ageing pop-punk fratboys return after long hiatus.