Australian metal band with a philosophical handle on star-struck hit making angst, battling the demons of rock and roll success via cool control over thumping bass line guitar, bewildered teen vocals, and just enough tender reverb to give the songs memorable hooks and riffs. Picture a young, crownless James Hetfield fronting a more melodic Cannibal Corpse and scowling at barracuda record executive types as in "NBT", or 'next big thing'. If this sounds a bit pompous, it comes across as a genuine love of metal in familiar thump and grind structures that often slip into quieter, more thoughtful angst, as in the nearly apologetic, metal defending, "Bad Funk Stripe", and the fluid, bar-gazing, "Repeat". The band's individual roles aren't credited on the CD, but the vocals, scowling and lung busting one moment, meek and vulnerable the next, give the band both a youthful zest and wizened maturity.