Just as before, this is a storming charge through threadbare punk territory. The minimal instrumentation of the band is pushed to breaking point as spiky guitar turns to sheet metal blur and drums hammer unremittingly to form a haze of aggression. Meanwhile Laura-Mary Carter is at pains to stress that she just can't concentrate. She's so distracted in fact, that the frustration becomes evident in her vocals, her voice changing from angelic to satanic over the course of the song. A.D.H.D. is every bit as twitchy and raw as the title suggests, it's full of energy, and unlike the medical condition, this form of A.D.H.D. seems to have further sharpened the focus of the band.

The more I hear from Blood Red Shoes, the more I become convinced that they are the best UK band I have heard this year. It is practically impossible to not fall in love with their simplistically wired, and blatantly catchy tunes. For further evidence check out the b-side Can't Find The Door. It's the aural equivalent of BRS taking The Young Knives for a spin in a Hillman Imp to the nearest tweed shop, before roaring over a cliff in a new wave, herring bone, suicide pact. A marvellous bloody, pop punk death frenzy.

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