The Molotovs are loud British rock revivalists with swaggering shout-alongs, and they do it extremely well. The opener Get A Life wastes no time, crashing in with the sunlit bounce of The Subways and from the first chorus it’s fascinating how far back the songwriting lineage reaches. Many of these songs feel structurally pre-punk, like they could sit comfortably alongside The Who or The Kinks. At the same time there’s clear Britpop swagger with flashes of Gallagher-style confidence in the delivery, and you can hear the kinetic rush of The Libertines or the youthful urgency of Arctic Monkeys’ debut.

Crucially, The Molotovs feel a lot more polished, professional, and precise than many of those comparisons. Siblings Mathew and Issey can play, with twangy, melodic bass lines that are constantly moving and guitar work that’s pure rock ‘n’ roll muscle. The vocals are delivered with clarity and punch all built for rooms full of people shouting the chorus back at them with very few moment of respite. The album moves fast, and most tracks are under three minutes. Popstar is practically a Green Day-style sprint driven by a bassline that refuses to stay still while Come On Now has the kind of confident, cheeky bravado that edges toward Robbie Williams in its stadium-ready swagger. The closer Today’s Gonna Be Our Day could be the album’s thesis in miniature, and could plausibly have emerged in 1970, 1994, or 2005, belonging to a cyclical wave of brash and catchy British guitar music that keeps resurfacing. Taking the bones of classic British rock from pre-punk to Britpop to 2000s indie, this record doesn’t try to do anything new but it sure as hell sharpens the formula. Big room indie that swaggers and obeys the most basic enduring rules of rock. Guitar, bass, drums, fuzz and attitude, tapping into a primal rock ‘n’ roll pulse that’s louder than most indie, sharper than most Britpop, and executed way better than most of their peers.