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Ezra Furman | Twelve Nudes

The indie-rock provocateur presents a potent, pointed and political disc.

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WHO IS HE? The androgynous indie-rock provocateur and cult hero from Chicago whose widespread critical acclaim has not yet generated the commercial success he so richly deserves.

WHAT IS THIS? His eighth studio release in a dozen years, his first to include his cheekily handled Band With No Name — and one of his most potent, powerful, pointed and political discs.

WHAT DOES IT SOUND LIKE? Nearly 28 minutes of righteous anger, expressed through sharply worded (and witted) lyrical bon mots and ignited by ferocious indie-punk firecrackers.

WHAT WOULD BE A BETTER TITLE FOR THIS ALBUM? I’m Mad As Hell And I’m Not Going To Take It Anymore.

HOW SHOULD I LISTEN TO IT? While seething, venting, ranting, raving, raging and screaming.

WHAT 10 WORDS DESCRIBE IT? Raw, noisy, bratty, cathartic, dramatic, frantic, defiant, black-humoured, jagged, raging.

WHAT ARE THE BEST/WORST SONGS? Rambunctious opener Calm Down aka I Should Not Be Alone and propulsive closer What Can You Do But Rock n Roll sum things up quite succinctly — but steller tracks like Trauma, My Teeth Hurt and In America hold their own.

WHAT WILL MY FRIENDS AND FAMILY SAY? ‘Does this album really last only 28 minutes? It feels way longer.’

HOW OFTEN WILL I LISTEN TO THIS? Whenever you need protest music that is as explosively infuriated as you are by current events.

IF THIS ALBUM WERE A SNACK FOOD, WHAT WOULD IT BE? Flamin’ Hot Cheetos — ground to dust and snorted.

SHOULD I BUY, STREAM OR STEAL IT? If you don’t pay for it, I fear Furman’s head might actually explode.