They play like a single-finger-saluting, mean, fighting-side-of-me Devo. If that’s not so helpful, imagine new wave punk (more Triggers, less Epoxies) with rayguns that could provide the soundtrack to an episode of the Twilight Zone which ends unhappily and features dismemberment. At their best, they slither and shake mechanically—like a dancing cyborg with a noose around his neck—while the keyboard sounds like it’s being played by a brain floating in bubbling neon liquid. At their worst, well, they’re not too bad; just a little clonky like they’ve been in the morgue a little long and have started to stiffen. Definitely a band with promise. I’d like to have them toe up against that surly Servotron—in an epic battle of meat vs. metal—and watch the sparks fly.