I’ve had just about enough of musicians who try so very hard to look like they don’t give a fuck. Worse is sounding like you don’t give a fuck. Portland slackers White Fang totally, like, don’t care maaaaaaan. The stench of practiced apathy hangs heavy over Full Time Freaks, a garage/bedroom/whatever scuzz-fest that seems to resent the very concept of energy. Even the most full-pelt number – ‘Goodbye To Bedtime’ – feels like parody. Humour, or, rather, risible attempts at it, plays a role, the lines fluffed left and right.

Frontman Eric Gage, much too happy with himself, sports an unconvincing swagger. “You better shut up, shut up, before you step in my puke”, he drones on the listless ‘Shut Up’. It’s no great shock that Full Time Freaks first approaches anything resembling merit when Gage takes his own advice. ‘Talkin’ To The Apple’ is a plain instrumental jam that serves as little more than an oddly-placed interlude, but at least it sounds like the kind of thing Queens Of The Stone Age might have thrown in as a flourish in their early days.

A nice idea crops up every now and then – the derivative-but-effective bass on ‘Shut Up’, the right kind of low-fi tuning that paints the title-track, an actual attempt at a (tired) narrative on ‘Talkin’ To Gary On The Corner’ – but these moments only beg the question of what White Fang might sound like if they actually cared.