My Jampandy' loops a two-note bassline for its entire duration; 'Showboat''s riff is like Skrillex if someone pinched his LFOs. This will make said orifices bleed and hurt, like wiping them with folded grease proof paper and not being able to flush. The society I live is mine" – it reads – "open to my voice and action, or I do not live there at all. Songs that the band have honed and crafted in the mighty maelstrom that is the Leeds heavy rock scene, have been rippin' 'em up live not only in Yorkshire but everywhere they've played. When I say culture, I don't mean something that can be packaged up and sold back at people so they accept their own inferiority.

This is probably punk's last gasp before the UK music scene and its chancy small town think-they-ares finally disappear up their collective bumhole.There are points within the album where it does overstay its welcome to the point of exhaustion, mainly on the second half where tracks such as ‘***street’ and ‘Don’t Wanna Disco Or 2’ are much weaker on impact, they seem to trudge along without any real direction. Brilliant," I thought, "more wannabe 'Mod' twats selling that line about how important it is in working class culture to wear a sharp coat.

Steadily burning a whole in the underground, Sleaford Mods' wonky brand of vitriolic domestic audio abuse is so unique that they can sound like John Cooper Clark, Billy Childish, Wire, any post-punk band worth their salt, and still be like nothing else on the planet.He talks about "music scene-think-they-ares", then speaks as if he is one ('I'll have a 32" waste in raw denim and stick 'em in the freezer'). No-one escapes – bosses, pop stars, wannabe hard men in the pub, pimps, drug dealers…they all get the same treatment. If you love what we do, you can help tQ to continue bringing you the best in cultural criticism and new music by joining one of our subscription tiers.

They are aggressive but don't seem to take themselves too seriously, so all the tunes end up sounding extremly catchy, in a weird way. If you dig the cynical, parochial, outsider attitude of acts as diverse as MC Pitman, The Fall, John Cooper Clark, Half Man Half Biscuit, et al then you'll recognise the unapologetic, uncompromising mettle present here.Austerity Dogs is the 6th album by Nottingham duo Sleaford Mods, but it’s the one that got them noticed.

Jason Williamson's earthy, aggressive street-poetry fits the rumbling bass, skittering drum machine and skeletal samples/rhythms like a glove. They're like an updated version of his stuff using current language in a very street wise naturalistic way - which isn't everyone's cup of tea, but is very honest.

Their debut 'The Killing Jar', which was released in 2012, was hailed by many as 'one of the best debut album's you'll hear all year' - it even made it onto Kerrang's top 50 albums of the year. In an age where everything seems to have been done before, where so many bands seem happy to tread over old ground, and where as a listener it sometimes feels a bit like you're grateful to just find a band that at least treads over that old ground with new shoes, 'Austerity Dogs' is a kick aimed squarely and with extreme firmness up your musical arse. Fully expecting it to contain the latest forgettable rehash of crappy Mod nostalgia, with some lazy political observations thrown in, I got mildly annoyed. fronting up to the BMX-riding estate kids ("Smash yer face, cunt, back into next week"), the possibility of catching chlamydia from using the "only phone on the road".