The third album by LA band Cherry Glazerr was almost called Hairy People Trying Not to Die. You wish they’d stuck with it just to add a glimmer of levity to a record mired in misery and self-imposed isolation. The feelings that songwriter and frontperson Clementine Creevy writes about on Stuffed & Ready are nakedly intense, evidently deeply felt and not something you’d wish upon anyone, detailing her anti-social inclinations (Self Explained), inherent brokenness (Ohio) and the vileness of living amid toxic masculinity (Wasted Nun). The garage pep of the band’s previous album, Apocalipstick, vanishes in favour of gloomy alt-rock and rain-soaked grunge – all cavernous bass and sludgy guitar – that inevitably crashes into towering, ferocious choruses. The effect is appropriately claustrophobic to Creevy’s insular theme, but difficult to endure across 10 incredibly samey tracks.

A few indelible choruses stand out: “Don’t be my man,” Creevy warns in piercing tones on Daddi, a song that hits out at Trump-like strong men and contains some impressively creepy lyrics. The ghostly pop of Self Explained owes something to French yé-yé, and Creevy’s throat-blitzing scream at the end of Stupid Fish is a welcome shock of life – both minor diversions from the somewhat wheedling vocal delivery and otherwise resolutely hangdog tone. She finds some distance from her situation on Juicy Socks, singing, “I’m so lucky I can swim when the others cannot breathe,” but the music could do with a similar sense of perspective – more light or dynamism to make the dark parts hit harder.