SINGLE REVIEW: Jingle Jangle Jabroni - Tinnitus
Jingle Jangle Jabroni don’t hang about. ‘Tinnitus’ is straight into the chaos—wiry, loud, and completely buzzing with intent. It’s garage punk at its most frantic, but there’s more going on under the hood than just noise and flailing limbs. You’ve got those sharp, angular guitars darting in and out, surf rock flickers sliding in beneath the grit, and a drum beat that thumps like it’s trying to shake the screws loose. It’s messy, but by design—perfectly unpolished and all the better for it.
There’s a scrappy cleverness to the whole thing. Twiddly lead parts weave through the fuzz, drum breaks add proper momentum, and it never stays still long enough to wear thin. It’s high-octane and twitchy, full of oddball energy, but carried with such confidence it never feels try-hard. ‘Tinnitus’ has that rare combo of being both aggressive and upbeat—reverb-wrapped, jumpy, and genuinely fun, with a kind of laddish charm that’s hard not to root for.
It’s not chasing trends, and it’s not interested in smoothing the edges. But it’s catchy. Quirky. Hooky in that off-kilter way that sticks. ‘Tinnitus’ lives in its own noisy little world—loud, fast, charismatic—and it’s absolutely worth stepping into.
