As the hazy dog days of summer seamlessly merge into one and a sea of field-strewn bodies begin to piece back the night before with tattered minds, Crushed Beaks' debut EP will make a fitting companion. Their frantic, breakneck racket may have festered in SE London's gritty underbelly, but really it has more in keeping with across-the-pond experimentalists No Age - albeit if their primitive brattiness was rebooted with a turn-of-the-Millenium pop punk sensibility.

Aptly, first taster 'Tropes' sounds like a lo-fi Weezer rattling around in a shipping container that's been washed up on Venice Beach; it's got muscle, but also the sort of mammoth, sun-bleached chorus that would have The Vaccines' Justin Young dejectedly retiring to his former adolescent quiver. 'Feelers' hurtles with the same primal energy too, but instead its refrain claws at your heartstrings with the same emotive edge that helped Jimmy Eat World transcend Bermuda shorts-wearing college rock. However, it's the power and backbone of the Goldsmiths duo that really amazes here; Alex Morris pummels the skins with the kind of intensity that would have kit-sharing drummers on open mic night shedding a cold sweat, while Matt Poile pounds each minor chord with, what you'd imagine must be, near-shredded fingers.

That's not to say that their edacity for the primal makes them one dimensional though; 'Lies' simmers at half-speed, with washy guitars that are not a million miles away from those used by Money and Father Sculptor to create horizon-sprawling wastelands of noise. Here, Poile also changes tact, trading his throaty croon for a brooding, Faris Badwan-like slur that only becomes recognisable once the breezy hook projects a dazzling ray on all the darkness. It's a stirring game-changer, but it's blown out of the water by the gargantuan cult-hit 'Day Residue' and its caterwauling synth-y intro. "She showed, she showed me" they repeat over and over during its irresistibly earworming, three minute stint; a climax that, once again, far exceeds expectation. Tantalising, untamed and laced with melody - your attention is as forced as their name suggests.