If you weren’t already aware that Have A Heart was the debut album from The Klittens, an all female five-piece from Amsterdam, you’d be forgiven for thinking you’d discovered an obscure demo tape of a cult New Wave band from the early ’80s.

For The Klittens sound like they’ve been beamed in from another era. They specialise in fuzzy, off-kilter post-punk, and have spent the last couple of years building a reputation as one of the Dutch indie scene’s most promising prospects. While this debut may not be the most polished of finished products, that’s all part of the charm.

There are many bands that are brought to mind when you listen to Have A Heart. The confident strut of Hinds for one, and the brittle, abrasive style of one of Kurt Cobain‘s favourite bands, The Raincoats. Yet to write The Klittens off as simple New Wave copyists would be doing them a huge disservice.

The opening title track sounds almost like a statement of intent – big drums, feedback squalls and sudden shifts in tempo. By the time it reaches its chaotic, cacophonous climax, you’ll be salivating to hear more.

While that title track is a suitable introduction to the album, it’s on following track Taxi that everything seems to click into place. Sounding as though it were plucked from the early ’90s US college rock scene, it’s a bittersweet ode to singledom – the key line of “I don’t need anybody till I do” is delivered with such deadpan pathos by lead singer Yaël Dekker that it’s impossible not to be moved.

Marrit Meinema’s basslines seem to be the key to these songs. Bank Account is powered along by a slinky, funky bassline that will appeal to anyone who’s fallen for Wet Leg in the last few years, while Nothing To Teach channels Pixies‘ Debaser in its introduction before morphing into a wonky, jangly indie-pop number.

Perhaps the best moment of all though is Badlands (no relation to the Bruce Springsteen song of the same name). It’s an exhilarating slice of raw energy with a shoutalong chorus that would make the likes of Sprints or Savages jealous.

Admittedly, the album as a whole can feel a bit all over the place. Like a lot of debuts, they’re trying to cram a lot of ideas into 45 minutes or so, and so the album sometimes feels a bit unbalanced. The short interludes that crop up can harm the record’s momentum, and they’re so good at the loud, shouty pop that when the tempo is taken down, it feels a bit less thrilling.

However, in general, this is a fine calling card from The Klittens – a confident, assured debut that promises even greater things to come in the future. Together with fellow Dutch bands Personal Trainer and Pip Blom, the future appears to be orange.