* WARNING: this is the second album review I ever wrote – and it’s dreadful!! You have to admire the enthusiasm though. * 

Undeniably the perfect introduction to punk: easy listening, clever, dynamic, thrilling; and underlying their intricate musicianship is an unfiltered, fuck-off attitude against systematic normality. If you haven’t heard Subhumans before, now’s your time.

Side A begins with the punchy and quick Get Out Of My Way, introducing Dick’s strong, hard-hitting vocals – some of the best in the business. First Aid shows off not only each musician’s dexterity, but their absolute sense of cohesion as a unit; the scaling bassline, sharper, edged riffing and ticking cymbals weaving together seamlessly, while Word Factory presents a more measured sound through the staccato chords and heavy bass, Dick’s vocals taking the limelight. From this point on, Subhumans’ real triumph comes into play: the creation of trajectory in their music.

People Are Scared is a living, breathing culmination of Subhumans’ musical ingenuity in its dynamism and suspense, the bass pacing and cymbals clicking as Dick narrates. The rush of snares then welcomes in a rise in clattering energy, instruments collecting and building together, Dick’s vocals furious and bitter, wired with raucous energy from the live recording. The band then loosen calmly, back to original pace, as they continue building up and falling down with such professional ease you’re taken along in their current, wondering why you’re out of breath.

While Side B holds more sombre tracks like Susan, which unapologetically broadcasts pure political irony, their vigour isn’t dampened thanks to the two live performances of I Don’t Wanna Die and Everyday Life. With that being said, even in its calmer pace, Susan could be Subhumans’ most powerful song. The antique piano, as constant as Dick’s aloof narration, is broken by clashes of guitar, the texture and contrast discordant and unsettling. Even if you can’t be arsed with listening to the lyrics (“the epitaph has faded badly no one reads it anyway”), Susan‘s chilling poignancy is untouchable.

You barely have time to process the last three minutes of undiluted melancholic anarchy when the toms rip, I Don’t Wanna Die knocking you back as the pace rockets, urgent and thrilling and alive, Dick’s vocals taking a turn from the nonchalance of Susan to an outburst of bile and grit, so bitter it pulls at you. If I’m telling you that this live version is better than the original studio track, then take my word for it – it must be pretty fucking good.

As with Susan, Work•Rest•Play•Die gives no shits – a parodical, cheery piss-take, laying down defiance to a military-eque stick count. Subumans don’t just play punk: they are, and always will be, the effortless epitome of punk rock.

Time Flies… encapsulates all facets of the Subhumans, bringing the best of all sides together in one sitting. Have a listen and see what you like most.