Gather around, children… There was a time when Ireland was a hot-button spot for the variant of punk rock that had its roots in 1976-1978 and its earlier (American) antecedents of proto-punk, circa 1969-1973. The former includes UK bands such as Buzzcocks, Sex Pistols, The Clash, The Damned; the latter includes MC5 and The Stooges. In these days of all things bright and shiny, poptastic tunes, silky threads and svelte production techniques, any band that lands its scuffed Dr Martens right into a music form regarded by some as a refuge for grey-haired 50-somethings is either living in the past or couldn’t give a flying you-know-what.

Dublin-based punk band The Black Pitts reside in the middle of this mix. And yet what would we rather have? Songwriters and musicians that grasp at straws in vain attempts to capture the latest wispy zeitgeist (c’mon – you know who you are) or people who hold true to their vision, irrespective of commercial success or critical approval? In other words, Nevada Jacks, The Black Pitts’ second album, is quality first-wave punk rock from start to end. Along with the obvious influences are hints of PiL and quips referencing the banter of All the Young Dudes, but overall, it’s a batch of taut, expertly delivered songs that swing the hammer hard and hit the nail dead on the head. theblackpitts.com