The best thing that can be said about Wild Flag is that it's exactly the sort of album you expected a band of their background to make, and more. With apologies to Mary Timony and Rebecca Cole, accomplished both, it's about the Sleater-Kinney connection - Carrie Brownstein tosses off mini-solos of bravado, Janet Weiss thumps seven shades of faeces out of her kit. Not that this is S-K retreads in any way. Taking not only from the music they made at the time but Nuggets garage, mod psychedelia and surf influences, every track flies out of the traps and produces a set of hooks big enough to hold the listener in a submission hold. None of these women have anything to prove, which is key - they're having fun with it, resulting in a set of solar plexus punches that give the vast majority of 2011's trad indie rock a Standard rocket up the backside.
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