Their previous record, Ruiner, seemed to center on the absolute bludgeoning power of their tone, but on Clean there is more focus on vocal hooks and catchiness, coming off a little tamer and more accessible this time around. “I Am Not a Goal-Oriented Person” gallops along like a noisier, fuzz-rock Queens of the Stone Age. Songs also demonstrate more soft-loud contrast between the verses and choruses. There isn’t the same sense of unhinged, dangerous aggression that permeated Ruiner. On the album’s shortest track, “Cougars, Not Kittens,” Christian Lembach pushes his voice into the furthest realm of vocal cord torture. On the other tracks, he stays more reigned in. Again this lends itself to greater accessibility, but takes away from the raw power of their previous release. Things are mellowed out and much more controlled, for better or worse.

There is nothing really bad about this release. Whores has a great riff sensibility and the guitar tone is about as perfect as you can get. The drums are earthy and natural sounding. And at only 24 minutes, this record does not outstay its welcome. For those who can’t get enough of Unsane’s brand of noise rock, or enjoy riff-driven fuzz rock along the lines of Truckfighters, Clean is something to which you should lend your ear.

I liked Ruiner a lot, especially “Tell Me Something Scientific,” which I kept returning to long after I had first heard it. Clean was an enjoyable listen, but I probably won’t be coming back to it. I hope that, in the future, Whores can find a way to combine the frenzied energy of Ruiner with the more accessible song structures of Clean. Then they would have something golden.

Not to labor the point of the previous paragraph, Whores are all about dirty, gross riffs. From the moment the intro drops 15 seconds into “Fake Life” to the closing of “Straight Down” , which recalls Rebreather at their best, this trio from Atlanta bring the fucking heavy. “Tell Me Something Scientific” has a disgusting opening riff that will break necks and the transition toward the end will bring back fond memories of Helmet’s Meantime. The production is thick and heavy, with big booming drums and vocals rife with frustration and anger, shifting from cries to screams and shouts. Fans of Meantime/Betty-era Helmet and Drop Out-era 16 will eat this stuff up.

All of that is to say, Ruiner is excellent. This is the exact opposite of a grower. It’s an EP that looks you right in the eye and kicks you in the balls. No bullshit, no fucking around, just honest songs driven by heavy and memorable riffs, and straightforward lyrics.