I got to see them last night at Scala and I nearly burst my stiches trying to dance on the spot and not mosh, then being overcome with tremulous sixteen-year-old-thrash excitement, chastised by Helen, bah-bah-bah KAPOW.
They do not bear serious review because they don't make me feel serious; I'm not going to analyse "I'm going to eat jelly jelly jelly jelly jelly jelly jelly jelly beans, you're going to eat cherry cherry cherry cherry cherry cherry cherry cherry drops!" because it is clear to me that is awesome and if you don't agree you've probably never been a teenage girl experiencing music as a series of electric shocks wired between your yelps and your skin.
I am also happy that my two favourite hyperactive girl groups (see also: Helen Love) have alternative universe lives as Ramones cover tribute bands (and that the encore last night was Sheena Is A Punk Rocker and Blitzkrieg Bop).
Things move quickly at that bpm, feet are happy, space foods are marshmallow, asparagus, ice cream!
Also, the singer is 51. What? They look seventeen.