Regal Cheer – Cans

Band: Regal Cheer
Album: Cans
Label: Beth Shalom Records
Release date: February 2023
Sounds like: Japandroids fighting Joyce Manor over a six-pack in the park

First thing, I love the simplicity of the artwork for Regal Cheer‘s debut album. Does exactly what it says on the tin (can) and I’m all for it. In fact, if it wasn’t about half 10 in the morning I’d want to sink a cold one whilst listening to this, as it would be the perfect pairing.

Regal Cheer consists of Max and Harry, a guitar and drum duo from Brighton who also shout themselves hoarse over the brief, but blistering 17 and half minutes that Cans has to offer. No one track on this breaks the 2 minutes 30-second mark and to be honest, I’m all for that.

Knee-jerk reaction? This absolutely rips. We’re not about reinventing the wheel or discovering fire here, what we are doing is setting the round-shaped object alight and lobbing it down a massive hill, shouting, hollering and whooping with maniacal glee.

The opening track, P.P.L. muscles its way into the party, swinging a huge bag of cans (heh!) roaring at the top of its lungs and latching this ear-worm of a chorus (“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again If you’re uncomfortable then don’t think twice“) into your brain, whilst mashing in some of the best frantic, low-fi punk rock, gang vocal chants and blistering drumming into a scant minute and 40 seconds. Woof. Castanets throws more of the same and is perhaps even more raucous with the dual-vocal chant of “It’s not that cool you know, it’s not that cool you know!” which I imagine sounds fucking amazing live. The feeling here is that Cans is a scrapbook of slogan-worthy chants, in a similar vein to The Bronx, and to be honest, I absolutely love it.

The feeling of cutting bitterness on Cans is delightfully summed up on Ante, with the line “I’m somewhere, where I’m surplus to requirements/but I couldn’t care less” sums up the sense of feeling redundant but also not giving a shit and being incredibly withering regarding commenting on it.

Some cracking call-and-response vocals split between Max and Harry on Tenner, from talk of chemical burns that never shift, to the changing weather, it’s a bruising and brusque blast of energy that leads nicely into one of the slightly calmer moments in the form of Forest, which reminds me of Hot Water Music, complete with a chanting gang-vocal introduction, that whimsical emotive-punk rock bounce, and that need to progress, failing to and ultimately feeling that frustration.

There’s a strong cohesive nature to Cans and Regal Cheer’s whole aesthetic – the hooks are massive and sink in deep, whilst the sloganeering of their lyrics (“You can hit the nail on the head But the nail will hit you right back”) from That’s What We’re Here For in particular, are fucking massive, as is their amped-up, brash, fiery punk rock abandonment.

Behavioural Patterns features drummer Harry on lead vocals and is a tight, aggressive, drum-led track of furious, spitting bile and one of the bluntest tracks on an already pretty maniacal and direct collection of scathing songs. On the Ground concludes Cans with a sardonic, almost Future of the Left (see Singing of the Bonesaws) style drum pattern, and again features some brilliant anthemic choruses, a lighter tone to the guitars, but still furiously upbeat, brimming with this vibrant, day-glow poppy-punk bounce and finishing with more excellent gang-vocal roars, which are frankly sublime.

Verdict? This is ridiculously good fun. A short, sharp blast of unrelenting, trashy, thrashing noisy punk that straddles the line between the infectious briefness of Joyce Manor (back when they wrote 10-minute-long albums) and the caterwaul calamity of early Japandroids mixed with the scuzzy fervour of The Dopamines. Love it to bits.

Get the drinks in and download/stream/purchase a copy of Cans below from Regal Cheer’s Bandcamp.


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Lizard Hips

Junior Vice President of Keep It Fast. In other news: I work in social media, talk about dinosaurs, run a book club and have amazing facial hair. I am also a male man who is still not dead.

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