All Time Low play straight-up pop-punk with no aspirations to reinvent the genre, or do anything more on their second full-length album (their first for Hopeless Records) than write catchy, buoyant anthems like theyā€™re direct descendants of Blink-182 and Green Day (if not the Descendents themselves).

Remembering Sunday is the most adventurous track, bringing acoustic guitar and strings into the mix, plus guest vocals by Juliet Simms. But itā€™s the exception on an album that mostly relies on familiar-sounding songs like Vegas. Listeners have heard this all before ā€“ in fact, opening cut This Is How We Do begins like a close cousin of Wrong Way by Over It, and I keep finding myself singing the words from Farewellā€™s First One On The Blog over the breakdown in Shameless.

Clever lyrics can often lift this type of music above the crowd, but wordplay on this album is limited to the likes of ā€?Boys, raise those glasses, girls, shake those - - get up! Get up!ā€¯ on This Is How We Do or the title of Holly (Would You Turn Me On). The subject matter also retreads all too familiar territory, celebrating good times or mourning failing relationships. Come One, Come All is a welcome change of topic, railing against a radio DJ whose ā€?playlist is killing meā€¯ (presumably he wasnā€™t playing enough Good Charlotte).

But one senses All Time Low arenā€™t even trying to break new ground, and moments like Let It Roll and the infectious stuttering chorus of The Beach press all the right buttons for undemanding listeners seeking a party soundtrack thatā€™s easy to sing along to. Plus, bonus points for the amusing copyright warning that pirates will ā€?have their homes burned to the ground by the bandā€¯.

Owen Heitmann

Perth-based four-piece Anime Fireā€™s debut EP is six tracks of darkly oppressive metalcore, embellished with touches of electronica. Guitarist Shaun Ngere and bassist Marty Sims lock together tightly to produce corrosive riffs like that which propels A Dangerous State Of Mind, while guttural singer Maty Rowe growls dyspeptic lyrics throughout the recording with little subtlety in his delivery, a fact which is highlighted on final track Altered Beast when his voice is counterpointed by velvety female guest vocals.

But Roweā€™s programming additions, unlike his voice, do add a more delicate atmosphere, particularly on Remedy, a track which also highlights drummer BJ McNallyā€™s rhythms ā€“ although it does feel more like an interlude than a proper song for much of its length. Machine Of War (which deploys samples of George W Bush to good effect), on the other hand, is strongly punk-influenced.

The title track best represents the EPā€™s sound as a whole, as its veering from orchestral swells to blast-beats showcases the diverse extremes of the band, but spirited opener Venom might be the pick of the bunch.

Owen Heitmann

In a surprising move, Dropkick Murphys have opted to leave their longtime home at Hellcat and release their sixth studio album through their own label, Born & Bred. Iā€™ll be shocked if it doesnā€™t pay off, though: The Meanest Of Times is much stronger than their well-received but uneven last album, The Warriorā€™s Code.

The seven-piece Celtic punk outfit have really consolidated their sound on this outing. Thereā€™s nothing so poppy as Sunshine Highway from The Warriorā€™s Code, and theyā€™ve also avoided the extremes of that albumā€™s piano-based Eric Bogle cover The Green Fields Of France and full-throttle punk Citizen CIA. Thatā€™s not to say that theyā€™ve sacrificed variation entirely; rather, theyā€™ve just perfected their fusion of the disparate elements. Their blend of mandolin, tin whistle and bagpipes with street punk has never sounded quite this good.

The opening three cuts (Famous For Nothingā€™s compelling tale of childhood gangs, rousing and emotional God Willing and The State Of Massachusettsā€™ portrait of a family torn apart by drugs) are blindingly great. They might not be as heavy as some songs the band has released in the past, but their passion gets the blood racing more. This high water mark is equalled several times on the album, notably when they take on the old Irish drinking song Lanniganā€™s Ball ā€“ reworked here as (F)lanniganā€™s Ball and recorded with irresistible energy. The Dropkicksā€™ renditions of traditional songs have always been terrific, but this track and Fairmount Hill (a Boston take on Spancil Hill) prove that when they rewrite and personalise the lyrics, the results are even better.

The bandā€™s own compositions such as Vices And Virtues, Iā€™ll Begin Again and Never Forget channel the same gripping timelessness, and even lesser moments like Shattered still stand tall. Highly recommended.

Owen Heitmann