Irish acts have always excelled at blowing hot and cold, but they've never been too good at playing it cool, never had the kind of urban avant-garage tradition that fosters a Sonic Youth or a Pere Ubu.

Into this climate come The National Prayer Breakfast, reeking of alterno-IQ (they've even got a song called 'Kim Novak' for God's sake!). But although these Breakfasters operate in the broad sphere of dum-dum punk, their frame of reference stretches far beyond the post-grunge.

'You're Not Paid To Be A Canary' has more in common with The Dead Kennedys and The Cramps than G***n D*y, while 'Sadder Day Blues' and 'Six O' Clock Swing' come on like Gordon Gano dreaming of Dick Dale jamming with the B52s.

More surprisingly though, and rare for a band not raised in Cork, NPB have a fully functioning sense of humour - as borne out by the gimpy limp of 'The King Roach Battle Stomp' - yet manage to steer clear of Primus infantilism. Sure, sometimes their sound is stretched too thin, allowing the influences to poke through ('Number 7' could be straight off Surfer Rosa), but there's enough here to denote an appreciation of the subversive scatology integral to wacko kids cartoons like Angry Beavers or Spongebob Squarepants.

So, consider The Sociables a remake of Repo Man directed by a superannuated Ed Wood all hopped up on old Count Five bootlegs. Whether by fluke or by crook, NPB have successfully appropriated the elusive essence of garage rock, from The Sonics to The Sex Pistols to Pavement. Kool - with a kapital 'K'.