11 tracks. 34 minutes. Pure, irreverent, anarchic magic that brings to mind the heady days of 90s Britpop, but with a 70s/80s punk attitude. Vocally Skunk Anansie comes to mind, but this is much more ladette than rage, more girl angst and real-life problems.

The album opens with "Girls Band Starter Pack". Atmosphere, chatter, and then wham, a smack right between the eyes. It’s part spoken, part sung, and 100% high energy, setting the tone for everything that follows. I’ve no doubt John Peel would’ve been a fan, which I think is high praise indeed.

The next track, "Gok Wan", feels like part homage, part cheeky slap in the face to the style and fashion guru. It walks a fine line between admiration and satire, and does so with a grin. Bold, irreverent, and impossible to ignore.

A biographical slice of pure can’t-be-arsed energy, "Lazy" shows how everyday life can be so mundane. Why bother? This track leans all the way into that. But what could feel like monotony is flipped into a defiant two fingers to the world. I have to admit, I’m in love with the lyrical wit and sheer insolence, but there’s no denying the music itself is absolutely cracking.

And the fun, and near absurdity continues with "Tit School". Yes, you read that right. I love just how wonderfully tongue in cheek this track is. The lyrics kick off with: “I didn’t go to Brit School. I went to tit school. I didn’t get straight A’s. I got double D’s.” Fused with a bold, rocking musical backdrop, the result is sheer magic, rebellious, cheeky, and completely unforgettable.

Not sure what he’s done to deserve it, but Dennises everywhere, watch out. "We Need to Talk About Dennis" has him laser focused. I can hear the chat-up patter in a club and the promises of a night to remember. Seems in this case, like the song itself, he was able to deliver. It’s a much more pedestrian, ambling track, but it’s fun all the same.

This is an album I’m finding very difficult to find synonyms for, particularly for irreverent and mundane. Both could be taken at face value as disses or insults, but that’s in no way intended. This band has everything under glorious control. I think you’ll see what I mean when "Do Something" opens with a discussion about broken washing lines. You could easily dismiss it when reading the words on a page, but when it’s filling your ears, you can’t help but be swept away by the absurd. And if you read between the lines, you may also get a whole different understanding of what’s transpiring, or maybe that’s just me.

The charge continues with "Personal Best", a tightly focused, guitar-driven slice of punk-pop, powered by momentum and anchored by a killer hook of a chorus. Again it’s worth noting just how great the music here is throughout. I admit I’m in love with the ladette vocals with a tinge of welsh accent, but the music too is a vital ingredient to what makes this album pop.

"Pockets" opens with what sounds like a checklist of essentials before heading out: “vape, phone, keys, lip gloss.” For some reason, my ears kept hearing “flip phone”, maybe it’s a generational thing. Once again, the track leans into a narrative vocal style, underpinned by raw, driving guitar and thumping drums that give it real urgency.

The narrative style continues with "Unhinged." The track is a little more restrained at first, but it still motors forward, driven by a pulsing bassline that builds steadily to a more frenetic break. Then, in the latter part of the track, a trumpet solo. I know what you’re thinking, but trust me, it works, and it works brilliantly.

With a much darker edge, "SMALLARAT" feels venomous, almost vitriolic. We’ve all been there, that one person who joins the group and you can tell in an instant they’re bad news. This is the third track with more explicit lyrics, and I think here they’re much more in-your-face, though not surprising given the nature of the track. It’s all wrapped up in a package that sounds so good.

And finally, we come to "Thelma & Louise", the musical equivalent of giving a middle finger to the world, where anything feels possible with your best friend by your side. I have to admit I completely misheard “sack it off,” but I suppose that’s just my mind in the gutter.

Taken as a whole, this album is a breathless 34-minute joyride, a celebration of attitude, wit, chaos, and creativity. Panic Shack know exactly who they are, and they make no apologies for it. There’s no overproduction, no faux sentiment, just a raw, authentic voice screaming from the speakers and daring you not to sing along. Whether they’re mocking fashion norms, poking at lazy stereotypes, or simply shouting their own truths, they do it with fire, humour, and heart.

It’s not just the high energy or catchy hooks that make this debut so memorable, it’s the way each track balances cheek and charm with razor-sharp insight. It feels personal and political, playful and punk, and somehow manages to be both tightly controlled and gloriously unfiltered. If this is the starter pack, then bring on the full toolkit. Panic Shack have more than arrived, they’ve kicked down the door.