Boston trio the Konks play an unholy collision of '60s-style garage rock, psychobilly, and punk on their self-titled debut album. To some listeners, that combination might sound like the ultimate tasty trash rock dish. Even if it is your thing, however, it's no landmark in the history of that mini-genre. The band claw out basic, back-and-forth buzzing and slashing guitar riffs while the drums lay down an elemental beat, and lead singer/drummer Kurt (no last name given in the credits) artlessly sing-screams, as if to don a Neanderthal guise is just the absolute coolest thing known to humanity. The recording quality is cheap and distorted, particularly in the vocal department, and quite possibly intentionally so. It's pretty reckless, assaultive stuff without much letup, and while it's less clichéd than the innumerable indie hardcore punk records that take that stance owing to its greater acknowledgement of roots rock forms, it's still clichéd. ~ Richie Unterberger