It’s rather reassuring that in a world of increasing ethereal and artsy anarcho-black metal acts, there are still bunches of drunken reprobates like Mongo Ninja making gleefully offensive Punk/Thrash combinations. This Norwegian five-piece has only been around since 2009, yet they already have two full-length albums out, No Cunt For Old Men being the second. With a line-up that includes former Emperor sticksman Faust on drums and Blood Tsunami bandmate Peter Vegem on guitars, the most obvious indication of what the music will actually sound like comes from the frontman Kristopher, aka The Cumshots’ Max Cargo. After reading about some of the band’s exploits online, it seems that we’ve gotten off pretty lightly with track titles like Broken Cock, Wheelchair Hooker and Pissing In The Wishing Well. The thrashers are obviously the main attraction, and the likes of Mongo Ninja Attack, Shithead Convention and All Bets Are Bad are rippingly fast, competently played and full of kickass riffage. They’re good enough to easily match anything off the last Haunted album, for example, and worthy of purchasing the album for alone.

Yet this is more than dumb music for drunk people – the mixture of styles is expert and enjoyable, from Motörhead and Discharge to some subtle hints of Black N’Roll and even Doom here and there, a variety of songs keeping your attention from wandering even as you gyrate in the moshpit. Broken Cock is like Volbeat midway through a night of hard partying and harder drugs, compelling punk catchiness infused with drunken singalongs, and Dead To Me opens with nicely Black N’Roll riffage before moving on to sound like Lordi were they actually possessed by demons. Elsewhere, the punk filth in the band’s veins shows up clearly in Wheelchair Hooker and Rather See You Dead, Sharkman of Karlsruhe including a nice bit of sleazy rock n’roll soloing, and whilst not every track is absolutely killer (Fuck It All is barely worth listening to) there’s more than enough to keep you hooked. Although songs are generally between one and two minutes long and rarely stick around long enough to overstay their welcome, it’s notable that the longer tracks are better, the musicians being perhaps a bit too expert to make, say, the groovy Paid To Stay Away quite as sloppy and shitfaced as you’d expect.

This is music for a certain audience, clearly not meant to rival the Wolves In The Throne Rooms of the world. I’d certainly recommend Mongo Ninja to my fellow cheerful inebriants who think that ‘punk’ means Discharge rather than Blink 182, who prefer Dirty Sanchez to Jackass. For damn sure if you see your younger siblings listening to this, you should certainly check their rooms for hard drug paraphernalia, before giving them a respectful high-five for their superior musical taste. Ultimately, this doesn’t do anything new, but it will go off like a dirty bomb at your next party when the Lady Gaga CD gets scratched.