San Francisco quartet Musk have a new self-titled album on Holy Mountain Records that’s jam-packed with the sort of outrageously vicious, filthy rock and roll that’s as exhilarating as a knife fight while on meth (I can dream, can’t I?). This kind of reprobate, combative rock has a long lineage (Stooges, Birthday Party, Scientists, Moodists, Laughing Hyenas, Scratch Acid, etc.) that’s tapered off to a hungry handful of outfits who are carrying the legacy into our toxified future.

Over its 11 tracks, Musk doesn’t really let up with the vein-bulging vocal desperation, the savagely sculpted clangor, the churning and careening rhythms. At the end of it, you’ll feel like you need a tetanus shot. (Hey, old-school Seattle noise rockers: Musk include former local musicians Rob Fletcher [vocals, ex-Video Vertigo, ex-Tractor Sex Fatality] and John Laux [bass, ex- Tractor Sex Fatality, ex-Egyptian Theatre].)