- Some of us in the Generation known as X may well remember Ipswich’s Cursed Earth bringing their dingy punk rock to sticky-floored bars. Here’s the kicker - they are not only still playing, but they have also just released their new self-titled album through Nambour label Bad Habit Records.

Whether you threw shapes to them back in the day, or if you’ve never heard of them before, this album is an absolute treat. The format of Cursed Earth is quite simple but potently effective – menacing riffs and gruff vocals combine to make a down and dirty blend of heavy metal and punk rock.

It’s also music that sounds perfectly at home in the 4305 postcode. Your humble reviewer has recently seen them perform in Ipswich venues such as Banshees and their blend of nihilistic lyrics and gut-punch rock & roll has always gone down a treat with locals. It’s almost disarmingly unpretentious music, the kind of direct underground heaviness that you rarely hear these days.

The album is raw, yet the recording is punchy and impactful. It’s also an excellent value purchase, featuring not only their nine new tracks, but some demos and a whole set’s worth of live material. It cuts straight to the chase with the Seek And Destroy-esque Drop It, where divebombing guitars duel with clattering drums and gang vocals. There is gobbier, more hardcore stuff like Spit In My Face and some good old-fashioned police baiting in Wanna Be A Pig.

That said, there are even some stylistic flourishes to show they are not just a straight-forward punk-metal combo. The electronically-altered vocals and groove metal twists of Jesus On Line is one example, while there’s even a touch of Ministry in the Buddah remix of Drop It, the riffs chopped and mangled, the vocals roaring over a nasty dance beat.

The words are often bleak but humorous, but the ‘80s Metallica-meets-Motorhead ferocity ensures that Cursed Earth are, first and foremost, a good time band. They may present a world of hypocrisy, oppression and self-hatred, but at least it’s presented like a house party with the entire bathroom used for storing the cartons. This is old-fashioned rock & roll for an increasingly apocalyptic world.

- Matt Thrower.