Hobart off-kilter punks Naked have crafted an oddly mesmeric record (on Tenth Court Records) in Pink Quartz, a hard-edged suburban gnashing of teeth. It goes from the impassioned growls and howls of 'Boys In Blue (All Ye Faithful)' to the bristling sparse early Bluebottle Kiss rock of 'Critical Half-Arsed' and the brooding maelstrom 'This Charming Man'. There is a wiry brutalism at work here, at times cathartic, at others bottomless, never content or still yet never offputting - Pink Quartz exists perfectly in its own atonal, shuddering world. The lyrics swing from angry to wry, sometimes moaned, sometimes strangled out (with lashes of humour throughout - the closer 'Paul Walker Overture' in its entirety, like Tyvek playing at being Hank Williams before slipping into Sleep doom). The perfect example of the wonderful weirdness is 'Sprinters Of The World Unite', a day in the life of a delinquent, starting with a dead dog and containing hurled bricks, stolen pizzas, beach arrests, birds catching worms and low-security prison. The vocals is a monotone singsong, punctured at one stage with imploding violin by Sewers' Josh Watson. It's its own thing - go with it.
What do you do with something as unwieldy as Pink Quartz? Chew it up, swallow it down, and through bloodstained lips ask for seconds. Grab this excellent record here.