Big AND clever, The Wytches’ protean psychedelia comes roiling and crashing out of the speakers, snarling, confused, and very, very angry. From Brighton by way of Peterborough, this Joy Division/Horrors influenced-trio join fellow newcomers Royal Blood and Temples in suggesting British rock may not be quite as moribund as everyone has been suggesting lately (there is, thank goodness, more to UK guitar music than another Kaiser Chiefs comeback). 
With production by former Coral man Bill Ryder-Jones, their debut is simultaneously dreamy and stormy: opener ‘Digsaw’ is twitchy and dissonant – or at least it is until singer Kristian Bell shows up, shrieking and squawking in the manner of someone actively trying to damage their tonsils; with stabbing riffs and thunderous bass, tempos ‘Burn Out The Bruises’ and ‘Wire Frame Mattress’ later show ugliness can have its own kind of beauty.