You won‘t find Farfisa organs, amps or fuzz pedals in the tidy garages of respectable Viennese mansion blocks (that‘s where the keep their Mercs), and there‘s definitely no surfing in Graz. The spiritual home of garage punk this clearly isn‘t, and yet there is a band that has set out to turn their Austrian hometowns into unlikely breeding grounds for undomesticated, irrepressible teenage noise.

As anyone who has been to one of their shows will attest, The Staggers don‘t do polite retro-by-numbers. Their raucous gigs usually culminate in frontman Wild Evel (in varying states of undress) drinking beer from his winklepicker boot, and by the end of the night nobody gives a toss if they‘ve just seen the future, the past or indeed the undead face of rock‘n‘roll.