One listen of Fox Jaw's second album and it's impossible to figure out what genre they fall under. Come to think of it, repeated listens wield no further clues. Are they rock? Indie? Punk? Horror soundtrack protagonists? Therein lies the beauty of the Limerick quintet, whose sound assumes both a Spinal Tap-like flippancy and a carnival-esque darkness. Hijack and Falling Debris nod to Foo Fighters' beefy commercial rock, yet Ronan Mitchell sounds like a growling Mark Lanegan on the title track. The camp theatricality of Food for the Soul is thoroughly enjoyable, while the piano-led Afterglow leaves an odd, eerie murk in its wake. Just when you think you may have them figured out, the album ends with the bossa nova-tinged Stream of Consciousness. Such inconsistency should be catastrophic, but Fox Jaw triumphantly embrace their weirdness. foxjaw.ie