From the opening blast of overdriven guitars and hyperkinetic drums it"s apparent A Place to Bury Strangers, self-described "loudest band in New York," want to pummel you into submission with their unique take on white noise-derived guitar splendor, but then a hypnotic single-string riff takes over to briefly deliver a respite from the assault, recalling the classic era of shoegaze. The swirling atmosphere of guitar feedback and reverb-drenched vocals immediately bring to mind the most obvious comparison: vintage Jesus and Mary Chain. And while the Mary Chain circa Psychocandy evoked the Beach Boys on bad acid or the the Shirelles gigging poolside at the Manson family compound, A Place to Bury Strangers also evoke a host of noisy early-"90s British bands like My Bloody Valentine, Swervedriver, Ride, Chapterhouse, Pale Saints, and the Catherine Wheel without sounding exactly like any of them.