King Cheetah

The editors at Exclaim! are fairly liberal — and generous — in their allowance of dirty, four-letter words in the magazine, but two words they may start intransigently excluding (at least when they appear together) are "post” and "punk.” Try explaining the genre without using the words "angular” or "frenetic,” try turning on the radio without hearing a "post-punk” band. Even at its summit of favour, two decades ago, it probably didn’t have as many acts adhering to its, um, angular guitars and, uh, frenetic drumming. But there is a reason for its revitalisation: it sounds good, as do the King Cheetah. Like a more incendiary, humourless Wire, the three British expats (current LA-dwellers) deliver a bare bass and guitar sound that’s never too simple or too elaborate and a convincingly affected sneer which invariably expresses anger at something, or possibly everything — which traditionally makes for good rock music.