Now that punk rock has been around for 35 years (using 1977 as years zero though I know we could split hairs about it all day of when the technical start of it actually was) there's lots of wells that have been tapped.
Some of them have been sucked dry while others are still flowing for a band to find hydration. From each well the water tastes different and it's always good to have variety.
Elements of the early Rough Trade-ish DIY aesthetics, especially the wonderfully inept plonk of the Desperate Bicycles, comes to mind. Combine that with a bit of the 90's blurring into the 00's garage punk blasts served up by English denizens such as the Real Losers amped-up yowl and Black Time's everything from 60's french films to the kitchen sink swing & clang this with a little bit of the trash-pop-art-screech of things like Times New Viking, this London UK band has found wells they like very much to a point where they not only take a sip from them but submerge their entire heads too.
Keyboard blurps that leave one debating whether that are awesome in their cheese or perfect in their obnoxiousness. The covered in fuzz guitar playing sounds it like was just learned to be played a few weeks ago, just found a third chord and has no intention of learning anymore because it has found it's bad attitude sweet spot and the drums believe the in the same ideas with a trash can tappity tap tap bash. Yelping "we have no time for harmonies-we just gotta say what we want and say it loud" girl/boy vocals top it all off.
Some of the ten songs here sound so agitated that they might not only rattle themselves, but tape player they're being played on, apart. All of them though have that making noise in the basement punk rock spirit that lives and yells in a world beyond mall stores and giganto marketing schemes.