Even at her most feral and vengeful, PJ Harvey was never a punk. 1993's Rid Of Me, which Harvey recorded with Steve Albini, is about as close as she ever came. As a punk record, Rid Of Me works beautifully; it's stark and loud and intense and confrontational. But even there, Harvey is a time-traveling mystic as much as anything -- covering Bob Dylan, making allusions to old blues records and outmoded ideas of female sexuality. Her ideas were always too big to linger long on the brutalist negation that punk rock needs. But what if Harvey had been a punk? What if she'd started recording a couple of years earlier, when she was mired deep in seething teenage fuck this feelings? Or what if she'd held the Ramones or Bratmobile in the same esteem as she held, say, Captain Beefheart or Rilke? If she'd never learned, or cared, to convey gothic sweep? That's where the teenage Barcelona band Mourn comes in. They're a hypothetical thought experiment come to life, a version of Harvey with all the magic swept away and nothing but hard, fun simplicity in its place. And while their self-titled debut isn't up there with Dry or Rid Of Me or To Bring You My Love, it's pretty fucking badass on its own.