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If the underground punk scene is a dormant volcano, the Bad Nerves is the equivalent of a spontaneous eruption whose explosive melodies awaken its slumber.
Hailing from Essex, the five-piece band released a self-titled debut album that launches twelve tracks of high-energy quickies into your ear drums with a fiery passion. This deliciously messy platter of punk thrills—served in 27 minutes—reels you in and leaves you wanting more. With the catchy harmonies of The Ramones and the classic rebellious attitude of The Sex Pistols, the brash British quintet represents the best of both sides of the pond. The iconic “1, 2, 3, 4!” phrase bellows “Baby Drummer,” a clever homage to punk pioneers The Ramones.
The Bad Nerves do not waste a second in the speedy frenzy of the album’s opener “Can’t Be Mine.” The poeticism of frontman Bobby Nerves and guitarist William Phillipson are interwoven in the fast-paced drumming and thunderous riffs that harken back to youthful angst. The punchy pattern of power chords shrouds the pleading vocalizations of “You can’t be mine/You can’t be mine” in a rhythmic scheme.
The following track, “Mad Mind,” straps you onto a seat and throws you into a tumultuous tornado that takes no prisoners. Listening to its lyrical and instrumental repetition, you can imagine yourself frantically moshing in a circle pit with the musky smell of beer. The vibrant pop-punk tones seep into your brain and make you unconsciously move your head up and down. If these earworms do not make you want to slam against fellow punk rock aficionados in a graffiti-covered Lower East Side venue, I don’t know what will.
The sweetly addictive “Palace” takes on a political stance against wealth inequality that runs rampant in London. The two lyrical scenarios—”A lonely, rich, white man/He owns the news” and “A girl out of luck/She’s living outside the tube”—speak to the band’s dissatisfaction with classist realities. Amid the adrenaline-laced storm of noisy guitars and rapid-fire drums, the vocalist drives this point home: “Why does the Queen get a f***ing palace but not me?” This defiant lyric would not sound out of place in the Sex Pistols’ “God Save The Queen,” a classic, influential anthem for the politically jaded. The snotty attitude reflected in this Bad Nerves banger is refreshing to hear in a world of cookie-cutter music.
The later tracks, “Radio Punk” and “Terminal Boy,” evoke the rebellion of adolescence at breakneck speed. Bobby Nerves’ vocals, booming riffs, drumming resonance, and energizing bass tones are ingredients to the band’s exhilarating hooks. The introspective lyrics also accentuate the counterculture aura. “So I quit my job/I got dreams of my own” speaks to the desire for freedom to follow our own path. The album’s theme of self-reliance sets it apart in the modern rock n’ roll landscape.
Sonically, the self-titled debut album achieved its purpose and deservedly earned a spot among Punk’s finest. It is not often that an up-and-coming band struts in with punk rock ethos that inspires juvenile fun, especially in a genre that seems to be wanted for dead. The amalgamation of gritty, in-your-face guitar chops, charismatic vocals, and effortless drumming affirms the band’s place in headbanging royalty. The Bad Nerves are undeniably the torchbearers from past punk legends (Billie Joe Armstrong even crowned them “the best new band in England right now.”). The torch will continue to burn brightly, with the unabashed newcomers punching a hole through the rock realm. Long live Punk.