In 2015, Philadelphia’s Sheer Mag released their second EP in collaboration with a tiny Brooklyn punk label. Its lead track, Fan the Flames, was one of those songs that just stops you in your tracks. It seemed to be rooted in music that had far less to do with punk than the mainstream hard rock that predominated when punk first reared its head: there was Thin Lizzy and quite possibly some Lynyrd Skynyrd in its unhurried sound, while lead guitarist Kyle Seely was audibly engaged in the kind of playing that would once have been approvingly referred to as “laying down” some “tasty licks”. But the sound was lo-fi and absolutely everything was caked in distortion, including the voice of Tina Halladay, a potent, soulful wail that, on closer inspection, was delivering a call-to-arms against unscrupulous landlords and gentrification. Between the classic rock references, the noise, the dextrous musicianship, the vocal delivery and the righteously pissed-off lyrics lurked the exciting sense that this was a band who weren’t quite like anyone else around at the moment, amplified by the fact that Sheer Mag didn’t do social media, or grant interviews to the press.

Since then, Sheer Mag have eased up on their media blackout and released two full-length albums that honed the sound found on Fan the Flames: retro-glancing rock of the hard – and, occasionally, soft – variety, noisy punk/garage aesthetics, political lyrics, killer guitar playing and Halladay’s equally killer voice. Both 2017’s Need to Feel Your Love and 2019’s A Distant Call come highly recommended – if you’re in the market for a vaguely New Wave of British Heavy Metal-influenced call for armed socialist revolution, hasten to the latter album’s Chopping Block – but Playing Favorites is a noticeably different beast. For one thing, it started life as a disco EP – an attempt, the band have suggested, to shake off personal difficulties through euphoric music. These origins are still intermittently audible on Playing Favorites, both in lyrics that deal with emotional upheaval – not least the death of Halladay’s abusive father – and in its sound. You hear disco during the breezy All Lined Up and the episodic Mechanical Garden, which slips from tough powerpop to orchestral interlude to intricate funk, complete with blazing guitar solo courtesy of Mdou Moctar. Moonstruck, meanwhile, dramatically diverts from its slide guitar-strafed country rock intro and heads euphorically towards the dancefloor, bearing a freewheeling melody that has a hint of the Jackson 5’s I Want You Back in its DNA.

But the music here clearly outgrew its original remit, not least to include songs that fit Halladay’s description of the band’s USP – “nobody [else] seems to write straight-up rock bangers any more” – although they’re wont to leave you wondering whether “straight-up” isn’t a knowingly reductive view of what Sheer Mag do. Eat It and Beat It might be rooted in old-fashioned, blue-collar heartlands American rock, but it arrives stripped of that genre’s swaggering machismo, replaced with simmering anger at the state of things. Essentially a rallying call for a new generation of rock bands, it still seems to keep casting its eyes towards societal iniquities: “Don’t bother with the referee, it’s all going back to the company.” It’s an approach that isn’t entirely without historical precedent (tellingly, when once asked to pick the song they wished they had written, Halladay and Matt Palmer picked Judas Priest’s Breaking the Law, which beneath its potent riffs and preposterous video, is a song mired in fury about unemployment in early 80s Britain), but it still sounds fresh and vital.

So do the moments on Playing Favorites where Sheer Mag sound like they’re expanding outwards, either tonally – there appears to be a celeste on Tea on the Kettle; a tumbling acoustic guitar figure introduces the title track – or in leaning more towards pop. Everything is still lightly battered in distortion, as though the band were still recording on a cheap 8-track tape in a bedroom, but the snarl in Halladay’s voice is dialled back, the melodies on Golden Hour and closer When You Get Back ring a little more sweetly than in the past. The latter song is a triumph – dressed with vocal harmonies, the Thin Lizzy-ish twin guitars chiming joyously – but in truth, everything here is done really well. There’s doubtless someone ready to grouse about the moments that take a softer approach, but you struggle to see that argument gaining a lot of traction. Even at its most melodious, Playing Favorites still sounds fierce and raw, an object lesson in altering your sound without losing your essence.

This week Alexis listened to

Musclecars – Ha Ya! (Eternal Life)
An essential blast of musical sunlight in the depths of February: NY house producers transform The Clark Sisters’ funk-gospel anthem into immersive secular bliss.