It's not within my jurisdiction to comment on whether the members of New Cross new-wavers The Swear are themselves somewhat highly strung, but I can say for certain that their music is. This four-song EP of shouty art-punk minimalism snaps and jerks its way along in the manner of an over-wound clockwork mechanism, stretched thin with tension and full of pent-up jittery energy. Treble-heavy guitars wheel and judder beneath shouted boy-girl pincer-attack vocals, lurching from tune to thrash to rhythmic breakdown and overpowering the melody with taut, edgy rhythms. There's always, always a tune - The Swear are, I suspect, as keen on pop as the next band - but said tunes play second fiddle to the irregular structure and sparse recording. A rich and layered sound this ain't...

This is the kind of demo I'd usually fall head over heels in love with after the first couple of bars. It ticks all the boxes and contains all the ingredients which would normally have me raving about how brilliant it is - and yet it somehow doesn't work. Repeat It Repeat It simply doesn't overwhelm: it holds back too much and doesn't overwhelm the listener. This is the kind of sound which needs impact, which needs to bludgeon the listener into submission, and this demo simply doesn't do that. It's a shame, because this is so nearly a great EP... but it just doesn't hit the mark.

I do suspect, however, that The Swear are fantastic live.