Oh, Noisey. Best album of 2016? More like the best album of 1966 (but you know, not).

Honestly, sometimes I wonder how much time writers spend on their 100-word blurb reviews. Do they keep a ledger of stock phrases – 'early contenders for best album', 'killer harmonies', 'enigmatic front man' - and withdraw them when they’re bankrupt on funds? Because Tyrannamen aren’t worth that much in praise – you could buy a dozen all-male garage bands like them with yr pocket change.

Do I even need to continue? Supposedly the blokes have been stumbling around Melbourne for five years or so, but all they’ve got to show the world is eight snack packs of crisps, over-salted and extra greasy and in time-tested flavors. Go on, take your pick – ditch-that-dude cheese ('You Should Leave That Guy')? Apocalypse barbecue (‘Ice Age’)? I-don’t-get-women-cos-I’m-a-guy and chives (‘I Can’t Read Your Mind’)? It’s all here!

Perhaps, if you’re one of those folks who defines rock and roll by the type of guitars involved, and showcases yr rare Stones and Saints albums behind glass cases, and listens to no one else but other men, then Tyrannamen would be a standout for ya. Otherwise, don’t bother.