HSY tracks have been bouncing around the internet for a few months now, and attracting comparisons with other Toronto noisemakers METZ. Their debut EP on Buzz Records is a righteous blaze of alternately slinky and fierce garage punk.

Recorded entirely in an empty church on the outskirts of their hometown, this longish EP is impressively diverse for the streamlined materials it is constructed from. Concentrating on perfecting a single sonic design, rather than messing around with a perfectly good formula, HSY (pronounced Hussy) evoke the recent lo-fi exploits of Ganglians and the like, with a drum sound nicely evocative of Unknown Mortal Orchestra.

Opener 'Milk Chug' takes an Adam Ant rhythm track and adds layers of fizzing, sheet lightning feedback. The result feels like a This Nation's Saving Grace-era Fall in meltdown at the end of a longish tour of the Deep South. Stabs and scratches emerge tangentially, a constant buzz of feedback and drone all in slave to the bottom-feeder bassline. It's the kind of thing that makes journalists talk in flowery, Beat-era nonsense (like I am now). As far as garage rock goes, it's nasty, snotty-nosed perfection.

Peel away the layers of horror and 'Tartar Mouth' is actually quite sweet and down-home. Imagine a pigtailed pretty young thing from Little Pine rolling into the big city all tasselled and pink only to be coaxed by the locals into pole dancing at the sleaziest bar in town.

Other than on 'Tartar Mouth', the vocals recall the barked philosophising of Mark E Smith, distorted rasping sermons of instructions that meld with the sludgy surrounds. I barely managed to pick out a discernible lyric from the whole bunch - that ain't a criticism.

HSY, like the Fast and the Furious movie franchise, are tough on nuance, and tough on the causes of nuance. It's a rough, angry ride around the dark edges of town. The music supervisors for the proposed Breaking Bad spin-off series, take note.