Hot Breath

Rubbery Lips THE SIGN

Garage-rock rises for another round with these Swedish upstarts.

Never underestimate Scandinavians’ appetite for old-school rock’n’roll. In a complicated world there’s a lot to be said for simple thrills, something Hot Breath are amply aware of. The spiritual and musical (and for all we know, literal) offspring of the early 2000s garage-rock boom led in their neck of the woods by The Hives and Turbonegro, Hot Breath’s pleasingly grubby debut album has more hooks than a rampaging Captain Birdseye.

With swagger to spare, singer

Jennifer Isrealsson’s classically cool vocals are the jumping-off point for a barrage of full-tilt riffoffs that put speed and attitude over beauty or originality. The touch-points are excellently sourced, from the Heart-shaped bass line on Who’s The One to the Runaways borstalbubblegum rock of Bad Feeling.

Hot Breath have bottled the sheer joy of being alive, shaken it up and let it explode. It might not change the world, but it’ll certainly make it look a bit brighter for a while. ■■■■■■■■■■