These hell-raising SoCal punk gals hail from the Smell, the grimy L.A. art space that gave us like-minded young bands such as No Age. Their live shows are always explosive fun, but for the first time, the ladies (and their new dude drummer) capture their rowdy energy in a studio. In blasts like "Wild Bore," they mix up giddy chants, incomprehensible screams and twisted guitar over the sort of surging bass lines that make you want to smash into the nearest wall. They pay their respects to L.A. punk history by covering the Urinals' "Sex" — but they top it with their own "Sex Jazz," which has nothing to do with jazz at all.