It’s all in the title: hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and the ladies of Civet are out to prove it. Rage is in plentiful supply on Civet’s fourth album, their first for Tim Armstrong’s Hellcat Records. The band is clearly at home sharing a label with the Rancid front-man, as every one of the 13 tracks is a blistering punk-rock workout, with fuzzed-out guitars and breakneck drums. Singer Liza Graves proves that she has vocal chords of steel; grunting, growling, and screaming herself hoarse on every song. There are scarcely even pauses between tracks, as the band launches from one bile-fueled diatribe to another, most of which are unapologetically directed against the opposite sex.

But for all its righteous anger, Hell Hath No Fury falls a little flat. Without any dynamic shifts, the up-tempo rockers lose some of their punch, and the songs end up blending into one another. After 13 tracks of the same, Civet’s formula becomes tired—there are only so many times a band can use the “group shout-along chorus” trick and get away with it. Even in the rare moments when Civet lightens the subject matter, as on the female solidarity anthem “All I Want,” the music is the same distorted power chords and frantic rhythms. If Civet had taken a moment to ease back, listeners would perhaps be more inclined to join in their shout-alongs.