Panic Shack's debut album opens with a sound clip recorded in the beer garden at an Amyl & the Sniffers gig. Glasses clink, and chatter rises before the buzzing anticipation gives way to the drum beat of the raucous 'Girl Band Starter Pack.' "We get loose, we get lairy, we get wild, we get crazy! We get naughty, we get silly, we get loud, we get freaky," chants vocalist Sarah Harvey as the song builds towards its end. It's something of an unofficial Panic Shack theme tune, the perfect introduction to the Cardiff four-piece: chaotic, carefree and insanely fun.

"We're known for our live shows," explains Sarah when asked how she would sum up Panic Shack to the uninitiated. "You never know what's going to happen; maybe a dance routine or two?" "We're just four best mates having a laugh, playing music and drinking lots of vodka," chips in guitarist Meg Fretwell. "Yeah, that pretty much sums us up I reckon," laughs Sarah.

Formed in 2018, it's taken a while for the band to get to the release of their debut album. "None of us come from money," shrugs Meg, "otherwise it would have made it a lot easier, and everyone would have had an album a lot sooner, but hey, it's part of our story, I think." There have been singles, plenty of touring and the scrappy punk of 2022's 'Baby Shack' EP in the lead-up, and if one thing is for certain, it's that Panic Shack have never stopped laughing along the way, an ethos they stuck to when recording their debut.

Written between late 2023 and early 2024, 'Panic Shack' came together over three long weekends holed up in an Airbnb in the Welsh seaside village of Ogmore-by Sea. Armed with yoga mats, swimming gear for sea dips and a boatload of good intentions, their good-time philosophy ended up winning over, and any notion of lotus poses and front crawl soon went out the window.

"There was this one tiny shop in the village we were staying in," recalls guitarist Romi Lawrence, "and on the first day, we decided we'd get three bottles of wine, and that would last us a few days," she sniggers. "We had to go back the next day, obviously; every day, we'd see the poor guy working there and be like, 'Back for more!'" "A lot of wine was consumed and not a smidgen of yoga done," laughs Sarah. "I've never done yoga in my life; I don't know who I thought I was!"

Alongside the wine, one of the first things they did was spread a huge sheet of craft paper across the dining table, scrawling different words and topics that popped into their heads onto a mind map and then choosing which ideas to explore further. It's a method that leant itself to Panic Shack's lyrical style; conversational and effortless with a heavy dose of humour. It's from one of these sessions that the album's first single, the acerbic 'Gok Wan' came to life.

"'Gok Wan' was one of the early ones," Meg remembers. "We had a big discussion about toxic body shaming and those horrible noughties TV programmes and glossy magazines telling women what to wear, and we sat and put an episode of Trinny and Susannah [horrible problematic posho fashion 'advisers', for those of you who didn't suffer through that era] on YouTube - that ended up being an easy one to write.

"We even messaged Gok Wan to tell him we had a song named after him! Even though we don't specifically mention Gok in it, he kind of represents that era and he's got a nice short, sharp name that has a good ring to it. He told us to send it over, but then he ghosted us!" "Can you remember that he used to just tell us all to wear a belt to cinch the waist?" ponders Sarah. "It took a long time to unlearn that!"

It's one of the things that makes Panic Shack so irresistible: their ability to provide social commentary in a way that feels unforced and natural. There's no political posturing, just lived experience presented with bucketloads of wit. Take 'Tit School', the band's reaction to accusations of working-class cosplay thrown at them on TikTok. They could have been really pissed off and fought back against the male-dominated establishment, but instead, they stuck a middle finger up to the trolls and wrote a sassy punk banger of a song with classic lines like "I didn't go to Brit school, I went to tit school / I didn't get straight A's, I got double D's."

"We're just speaking on our own life experiences. We like to cover serious topics, but we do that in our own fun way," says Meg. "Being able to open that conversation with people a little more, that's a good thing, rather than speaking to people in a preachy way."

"Just hearing a woman's point of view - which for a long time wasn't done in music - just hearing our stories of everyday life, is just as, if not more powerful than just shouting about something directly," adds Sarah. "We haven't got crazy educations where we feel comfortable giving speeches on stage, so we find our own way to talk about it in the music."

And, of course, the songs don't always have to have a political stance or great meaning - a quality that any punk-leaning bands with a remotely DIY ethos seem to get pigeon-holed into. As Romi points out: "Sometimes we write songs simply because we want to."

Alongside the more serious tracks such as 'Gok Wan' and the spikey anxiety of 'SMELLARAT' which explores the creepy grey-area type behaviour women often have to deal with, there are the almost stream-of-consciousness tracks that are both riotous and effortless, embodying that playful "because we want to" spirit of Panic Shack. 'Unhinged' is made up of responses to Hinge prompts spoken over a thrumming bassline, while 'Pockets' is an off-kilter, cheer-leader style examination of a night out wearing jeans without pockets. ("I'm streamlined, I'm fast as fuck, I'm smooth like a dolphin, I'm aerodynamic"). It may all sound a little silly and mundane, but Panic Shack deliver these tracks with such charisma and explosive energy that you can't help but want to be a part of their gang.

When we talk about the idiosyncratic nature of Panic Shack's lyrics, we absolutely do need to talk about 'We Need To Talk About Dennis', a track which, on the surface, could potentially be discussing a toxic male stereotype. "Dennis may be closer than you think!" laughs Meg cryptically. "Basically, it's me; it's my alter-ego when I've had a few too many drinks. BOMBSHELL!" laughs Sarah. "It's literally who I turn into when I get black-out drunk - he's a bit of a rascal. And then if I get a few more drinks down me, I get a bit sassy and turn into Denise, who gets a mention at the end of the song." "Dennis has been known to mount the back of a street sweeper and take it for a ride," adds Meg. "There's no stopping Dennis!"

The best place to witness this delightfully chaotic energy is during Panic Shack's live show. As the album is about to be released, they've just finished up their Don't Quit Your Day Job Tour and are about to head out again at the end of the year. One thing that is guaranteed from a Panic Shack tour is that it will be unpredictable. In fact, bass player Em Smith even saved someone's life on the first day of this recent tour. (Bet you weren't expecting that one.)

"We were playing in Nottingham, our very first show, and we stopped in a service station to get lunch on the way," explains Romi. "As we come into the services, a guy had fallen out of his van, and we realised he was choking on his lunch. We're not even joking; he was close to death. Em gave him the Heimlich Manoeuvre and saved his life - a few minutes later, he could have been dead on the floor!"

Surely now they're bonafide life-saving punk heroes, Panic Shack can start to make some slightly diva-esque rider requests on their tours?

"We're not too crazy, but at the end of the last tour, we were a bit too general with the rider requests, and I've realised we need to be more specific - there's too much hummus," says Meg. "One place we turned up, and there were six pots of hummus. No one needs six pots of hummus; there's not even six of us in the band. We don't have a fridge in the van! It was a nice gesture, but... six bottles of vodka next time, maybe?"