Diminutive singer/guitarist Kelly Canary (like ferocious drummer Lisa Smith, an alumna of Dickless) sounds like both of her feet are being fed to hungry piranhas throughout Teen Angels’ roaring Daddy; the speaker-shredding screams she uses to inarticulate such short ditties as “Go Away,” “Fire in the Hole,” “Tijuana Pavement Princess,” “Sell Out” and a cover of the Supersuckers’ “Jack Shit” are Teen Angels’ main distinguishing feature. Jack Endino’s production of the dozen tracks pulls a clear rock instrumental sound out of the punk trio’s pit, but Canary’s industrial-strength hollering is the take-it-or-leave-it factor in deciding whether or not to try this toe-dipping descent into sonic splattercore.