No one likes a noisy smartass, am I right? Well, people with no sense of humor or adventure probably think that way, but I sure don’t. I’m down with bands that challenge your hearing and make you laugh at their cynicism all in the body of one album. That’s always good stuff.

What I’m on about is the debut full-length “The Shadow Gallery” from Brooklyn punishers Primitive Weapons, another strong release from the Prosthetic Records family in 2012. They’re on some kind of roll over there, what with their primary label and their union with rock-solid Indie Recordings and Lost Shepherd. This is one of those records that already has people talking, and the band’s mathy, ruptured, and kind of pissy style is a lot of fun to hear, especially in the company of more conservative listeners. These guys seem agitated, but they have wry smirks on their faces all the while. Clearly they know that things surrounding all of us kind of suck, can’t be changed, and will dog us forever, and they embrace the sarcasm that results. I feel a sense of kindred spirituality when I hear them hammer away.

Even their press material made me chuckle. The band members — Arthur Shepherd (guitars), Christopher Enriquez (drums), Justin Scurti (guitars), David Castillo (vocals), and Eric Oddness (bass) — claim to have been brought together because all suffer from Temporal Lobe Degenerative Syndrome, and their only solution was to seek out aural physician Alex Newport for therapy. Good stuff. In other words, Newport produced the band’s 7-inch effort released by Shinebox, and then the good doctor’s work was handed over to Dean Baltulinos at the esteemed Wild Arctic studio for further treatment. That intensive therapy resulted in “The Shadow Gallery.” So happy to see the guys pulling through such a difficult endeavor so well.

If you’re new to the band and sort of need some relative comparisons to know what to expect, imagine something involving Dillinger Escape Plan, Unsane, Tombs, and Cave In. The songs are confrontational and relentless, the music is steeped in math-core, hardcore and doom, and they even go for some post-metal and indie flourishes to keep things interesting. Castillo is a strong frontman, practically poking his finger into your chest while he berates you, yet sometimes he changes things up and croons quite capably when he needs to switch emotions. All the while, you feel like he’s reminding you that you’re screwed and that all you can do is laugh maniacally and lash out at those who oppress you. I don’t have access to the lyric sheet, sadly, so I can only guess at this. But it sure feels like I’m right.

The album is quite to the point. It’s but seven tracks long and lasts a little under 25 minutes, but they make the best use of such small space. And really, had they gone on any longer than this, they might have started to repeat themselves, but they recognized the value of brevity. If only more bands would do the same thing and not bloat their albums. The thing kicks off with “Good Hunting,” a sludgy, harsh, shout-filled diatribe that gives you a great indication for what lies ahead. “Quitter’s Anthem,” a track that’s made its way across the Internet the last few weeks, has a ’90s noise rock feel, with a raucous melody and some gang shouts for good measure.

Maniacal “The Death of Boredom” reminds me of Every Time I Die’s looser, hungrier early years, with energy and fury in spades; “Big Chief” is more sing-songy, and it doesn’t always work for me. It depends on my mood. “Oath” is led in by big-time drum work that sounds as if it’s going to be a showcase for Enriquez before blowing up into a scream-laced tirade; and closer “Black Funds” is fast and scathing, with Castillo making references to losing and continually pointing out, “You’re wrong, you’re wrong, you’re wrong.” It washes out with mechanical keys and some ricochets, as if it’s slithering back under the rock from whence it came.

“The Shadow Gallery” should cure what ails you if you’re one of those who has to choke back the bile and bitter feelings generated by everyday life. Things can get frustrating and downright unfair, and no one’s exactly racing to balance the disconnect (if anything, forces at work are trying to keep everything lopsided). So it’s nice to have some place to go and rip out your hair, and this record is just that destination. Hey, if this medical treatment worked for Primitive Weapons, just imagine what it could do for you!

For more on the band, go here: http://primitiveweapons.tumblr.com/

To buy the album, go here:http://store.prostheticrecords.com/index.php/bands/primitive-weapons/primitive-weapons-the-shadow-gallery-digi-pak.html

For more on the label, go here: http://prostheticrecords.com/