Totally competent (read incompetent, but in a special way) primary (maybe primal) rock’n’roll from Sweden that has more than merely laced on the Devil Dogs’ sneakers, but are soaking and inhaling in the reek. The good news is that’s a fine way to start a band. The bad news is that the Leghounds (and Kill-a-watts) already did and gasolined the works to crispy, delightful ends in the ‘00s. It’s much more satisfying hearing bands make their own footprints flame up when they stomp down, even if they didn’t invent fire. The Makeouts are smoldering now. I’d be interested more with more heat, more flame.