The Dogs are the Oslo-based band in which only one member is actually from Oslo but hey why not Garage punk rock n roll is universal we’re not defined by borders thats for the pearl clutching right wingers, no way baby were as free as the birds or the wild dogs that run free in the hills or in this case somewhere in Europe. These dogs show their teeth and not just their bark, although that’s pretty fuckin decent judging by the sound of this album. A total of 12 albums (13 if you include this bad boy), countless Norwegian tours, unusual one-off events such as opening for Bruce Springsteen, which is a pretty big fuckin deal in anyone’s money, so here we are as 2026 is beginning to fade away as winter kicks in, and we need something red hot to keep us warm inside, so why not this garage-rockin ‘ piece of plastic.

Norway has a rich heritage for kicking out the jams, and The Dogs have been a big part of that, along with the mighty Gluecifer, so when we kick off with ‘Back To Fucking’ it’s like the mighty Turbonegro have found their spirit animal and the woo-woos are just the beginning. Full throttle, boundless energy it’s coming out swinging, and I highly approve. Imagine Turbonegro covering Cock Sparrer’s ‘Because You’re Young’ on a downer, you’re in the right ballpark. The one thing you can guarantee with ‘Trauma Junkie is it’s a zero fucks given ram raid ride through some Mad Max end-of-days landscape, with this being the soundtrack to another day in hell. The atmospheric, moody and rather chillin ‘Close IS Just Another Word For Nothing’ is a bleak, cold and bold, brooding beast. The song starts like a living nightmare before building into something epic and rather special. If Cave was still on the gear and delving into his worst nightmares, then he might come close to this rotting corpse of a track, and I love it from the distant, sparse intro to the soaring guitar solo, clocking in at a shade under six minutes; it’s a momentous song to throw in early doors.

If you’re looking to get over the last track, then step away from any sharp objects; ‘Fuck Em’ is a pissed-off kick to the temple. Taking no prisoners and pulling no punches, this rages from the opening note to the final crescendo. Imagine Jesus Lizard on speed and being told their house had burned down with everything in it. Yeah, almost close to how this song sounds, but anyway Fuck em, eh? We’re living on borrowed time anyway.

The middle half of the album ranges from epic to superb, coming on like prime-time Godfathers on ‘7-25’ before ‘Another Child Of The Cross’ takes us on another of those frantic widescreen trips, with the bass rumbling in your ear like a hornet or two, and then the chorus melody seems to take you somewhere else in a soothing way, like someone’s running their fingers through your hair before pulling it, jolting you back to reality in the blink of an eye.

I’ll be fair: when I saw the album being drip-fed, I was looking forward to hearing what was on offer in 2026 and if they still had the chops, but on repeated plays in its entirety, I can’t step away from it and love the darkness and helplessness of it, but juxtaposed with the melodies and twisted choruses, I love it. Kristopher Schaus’s vocals are captivating, and I don’t know whether to put my fists up to fight him or grab him for a big hug. His delivery is excellent, and songs like ‘Do You Miss Me At All’ sound bursting with emotion that elevates the music. His vocals sit on top of the production and are sympathetic to the songs and the lyrics, giving them a welcome shine and polish. Hell, you could even dance like a bitch to ‘Come On’ ok so you might need to consume a few shots and maybe a pill or two, but there is still the superb ‘Becoming God Of Nothing’ to close the album with a soaring, upbeat track that just makes me want to punch the air with a triumphant hell yeah! I highly recommend you buy this record because you will come to love it in an instant, and you will embrace the abrasive side and fill up with the melodic side. The Dogs have created a career high with ‘Trauma Junkie’ and I’m delighted to add it to my already pretty awesome collection of albums. Just buy it, or I’m sending the boys round.

Buy Here

Author: Dom Daley