Daughters

It all started with a Birthday Party cover, the cobweb-clearing post-punk of “Marry Me (Lie Lie).” Ever since then, Daughters have been on a collision course with themselves, shedding the blunt trauma approach of their first few releases for a sucker punch rhythm section and wildly expressive riffs, delivered at a feverish clip right alongside Alexis Marshall’s spot-on portrayal of a depraved preacher man. Considering his deceivingly simple start as a grindcore vocalist, it’s thrilling to see the guy seize every song like he does the stage — as some bizarre blend of Elvis, David Yow and Nick Cave. A logical extension of their last LP, Hell Songs, this is one of the year’s most rewarding highway-to-hell listens. We’re talking a filler-free record that reveals some serious subtleties on proper headphones, from the cymbal-rush climax of “The Dead Singer” to the hasty handclaps and crystalized chords of “The Unattractive, Portable Head.”