Partman Parthorse, Wet Sounds (1/18, ggnzla Records, ggnzla.bandcamp.com)

Next to Fly Moon Royalty, Partman Parthorse might be Seattle’s horniest band. Wet Sounds arrives as if it had sprung forth fully formed from the mind of a hormone-laden pubescent boy. “I did some coke/I hit the bong/It stopped my cum/But not for long” speedo-sporting Gary Smith moans on “Didn’t Come.” And then there’s “Hardcore Fucking,” in which Smith repeats the title and “BLOW BLOW BLOW BLOW” over and over, replete with squealing female backing vocals exclaiming “I want you right now.” Sealing the adolescent vibe are multiple references to “daddy issues” throughout. The band belongs squarely in the local school of jester-rock acts like Childbirth, Tacocat, and Wimps—the latter of which happens to be fronted by Partman Parthorse bassist Rachel Ratner. The classic ’70s “fuck everything” attitude Partman Parthorse cops is straight out of an issue of Pork magazine—a world full of vomit-stained sidewalks, switchblades, and endless supplies of greasy pepperoni pizza. The band’s love for fellow punks Thee Oh Sees shines through in Smith’s slapback-heavy, John Dwyer–style vocals. Musically, Wet Sounds veers toward darker jams, eschewing the lighthearted, shambling nature of its local contemporaries for something more menacing. Songs often devolve into squalls of malevolent feedback or switch tempo halfway into jarring, frenzied speeds—sounding something like pre-Unknown Pleasures Joy Division but without the dystopic moping. The only moping Partman Parthorse will be doing is if someone forces them to put their pants back on.(Sat., Jan. 18, Highline)

KELTON SEARS