With Every Six Seconds, Saliva lock in the formula that would make them recognisable: a big-canvas nu metal fuelled by arena-sized hooks and a cocky, party-ready energy. Josey Scott swings between snotty rapping and a hoarse melodic bark, projecting instant charisma.
The record runs on simple but effective riffs and a hook instinct that favours impact over subtlety. You can sense equal parts urge to smash the place up and desire to get whole crowds shouting along.
That chase for the anthem sometimes costs it: a few songs feel flat and radio-calibrated. Even so, this is a vitamin-shot of an album, sincere in its swagger, capturing the festive hard rock spirit of the early 2000s and truly launching the band.
