Head here to submit your own review of this album.

The Chicago quintet has emerged from the garage into the shiny studio and open arms of three accomplished record producers for their new album Disgraceland.

It is difficult to discuss the garage-punk band without reference to 'the Letterman performance' of 'Who Needs You' in January, which is the lead single on the record. Front-man Mario Cuomo attempted a stilted Jagger-swagger and added a floundering pelvic floor exercise routine before slumping into one of the Letterman guest chairs. Fast-forward to May and guitarist Matt O'Keefe is telling Rolling Stone that rock 'n' roll is "just not dangerous enough" any more. These two, no doubt not entirely unrelated divisive incidents, were the two the music literati pounced upon. This is fine - make a splash, promote the album and ruffle some feathers. However, somewhere between the leap into the water and the ripples settling, the Orwellsian sound seems to have been bleached in the wash.

The lyricism on this record is far tighter than Remember When (2012) and is pleasingly cohesive as a collection. But does 'tight' and 'cohesive' sound like descriptions The Orwells would enjoy? The rough, distorted feel to their debut is left behind for a new 'punk-feel' style. It is as though the producers have sat down and worked out how garage-punk is supposed to work then generated a formula which equates to Disgraceland. Clearly a raucous live performance must now be the sanctuary of the bands' rebellious (if adolescent) rock aspirations if this is a permanent new direction.

'Norman' is the stand-out track despite the obvious buzz for Who Needs You. The gritty horror story of "blood on the speakers/ blood in the hallway/ blood on my t-shirt/ He's in the backroom dressed as The Reaper" is followed by an instrumental section, the highlight of which is the howling moan of a guitar solo. The atmosphere is well-balanced between Cuomo's cutting chorus and the eerily soft backing vocals.

In 'Dirty Sheets', the line "from the east coast to the west/ we ain't the worst, we aint the best" is as appropriate a self-review as one could expect. Substitute 'we' for 'Disgraceland' and you are almost there. The last three tracks following the jump and shout of 'Let It Burn', 'Who Needs You' and the impressive Norman that form chewy core of this second album, are a disappointing deflation.

This is a good release, it just could have been so much more satisfying if they had been left to their own devices and produced a dirtier, dragged-through-a-hedge-backwards sound. There is a little too much grace and not enough diss.

This is the place you'll find reviews from 405 Readers. To join in, head here.