Off come the bandages, down comes the hair, out come musical sideburns of fuzz and psychedelia. Sheesh, I don’t think every song on this shiny little thing – as opposed to their last album – is about pot (although they do thank Ricardo Mondobong). ’60s garage rock’s the taking off point. Attitude’s the delivery mode. I can’t help thinking that I hear a splice between the Sonics and Mudhoney, where the rhythm’s always kept in check and the songs are given plenty of spine with deft use of organ, yet the guitars gnarl and are flipped onto attack mode. Good stuff. If the guys in the Mummies aren’t dead, I’d pay to see a battle royale or at least a tag team matchup.