At this point in the game, hearing yet another new band compared to shoegaze stalwarts the Jesus And Mary Chain and My Bloody Valentine can immediately turn off a potential listener, leaving them with the desire to listen to the true progenitors of the feedback-laden sound rather than taking a chance on a new band they feel is simply recycling an old formula. And while digging back in your crates to pull out that well-worn copy of Loveless is always a good idea, remaining trapped in that era can keep you from discovering a lot of bands that are breathing some fresh new life into that currently overworked genre.

And while there are elements of JAMC/MBV’s classic, fuzzed-out sound layered within the songs on Ghost Blonde, the explosive debut record from Montreal’s No Joy, there are far more current influences informing their musical direction, from the untethered volatility of Sonic Youth to the more melodic trashcan pop of the Raveonettes (whose Sune Rose Wagner mixed the record). But rather than playing spot the influence with these incendiary numbers, it’s best to just turn up the volume and let the tempestuous waves of sound forcefully wash over you.

Jasamine White-Gluz and Laura Lloyd, the two driving forces behind No Joy, are far more interested in crafting a doleful mood through their wall of sound than they are in clearly elucidating any of their world views, with their wispy lyrics continually placed low in the mix beneath their volatile mountain of guitars. So, rather than taking away any type of lingering sentiment or belief after listening to Ghost Blonde, the album instead taps into something far more visceral, leaving the listener dazed and slightly despondent, but doubtlessly moved nonetheless.

The songs are sneakily catchy, with infectious melodies hiding innocuously below the prodigious discord, but upon the first couple of listens you’re bound to hear nothing but guitars and be perfectly fine with that. The ten tracks here are all bristling, unsettled numbers that have an urgency to them that is present on all good debuts, but also demonstrate a confidence and a cool restraint that belies the band’s fledgling development.

‘Mediumship’ and ‘Heedless’ both kick off the album boldly, but don’t sound overbearing or insolent, easing the listener into No Joy’s glum party while still reminding us that this is still a party after all. So the songs are fun even if they are a bit morose, giving us an excuse to smoke cigarettes in the corner while we nod our heads in time with the relentless rhythms the band generates, all while making derisive fun of those that chose to go to the bigger bash with better food but bad conversations.

After the hypnotic hum of ‘Maggie Says I Love You,’ and the playful kiss off of ‘You Girls Smoke Cigarettes?,’ they thankfully give us a chance to catch our breath on the sun kissed ‘Pacific Pride,’ which slowly builds to a cacophonous finish that you always felt was coming. ‘Hawaii’ is a real steamroller of a track, with the girls never once letting up on the gas while leaving their guitars smoking during the prolonged, feedback-laced fadeout.

Nothing seems forced or rushed on this album, with White-Gluz and Lloyd setting their own pace and daring us to follow along. And while most albums this capricious and breathless eventually lose momentum and run out of steam on their second sides, Ghost Blonde chugs along emphatically, with ‘Indigo Child,’ ‘Still,’ and the wistful closing title track all churning with an insistence that shines through clearly amongst the din. No Joy have crafted a standout debut that clearly has hints of other destinations along the way, but the band eventually leads us somewhere totally new in the process.