Holy Molar

Though they may always live in the shadows of the members’ full-time jobs — Glass Candy, the Locust, Get Hustle, Some Girls, Cattle Decapitation, etc. — Holy Molar’s shtick certainly gets a toothy grin. Decked out in full dental apparel, the San Diego-based five-piece knock out a blistering brew of arty hardcore and new wave that is both sugary and rotten enough to provoke exactly what this EP’s title suggests. Much like the Locust, Holy Molar’s attention span is momentary, as the five songs blur by in less time than it takes to read their elongated titles. As well, the music unfolds like the score to a dissonant alien attack: lasers zapping furiously, beats flying like crisp corpses and Marky McMolar’s guttural shriek striking like a Martian’s war cry. Part horror mockery, part invigorating noise, Holy Molar aren’t without their limitations (making this a full-time project might wear out its welcome fast), but for such a brisk and immediate fix it’s definitely up there with a hefty dose of nitrous oxide.