With a deliberately unvarnished attack, Atlanta’s Coathangers offer their uncompromising punk-pop. While less confrontational than on their debut album, the foursome leave little breathing room as their animated cries and whispers support the energized rush of electric guitars that have been tuned up just in time. “Time Passing” and “Bury Me” aim for the apocalypse with their most rudimentary equipment creaking away. It’s the sound of a junk shop being overturned by overanxious bargain hunters. By comparison, “Dreamboat” is practically out of place, swaying with an unexpected ‘60s girl-group sweetness. Its stirrings of unrest hide underneath the roughly strummed guitars and the too-gentle-to-be-believed lead vocals. The bare minimalism of “Pussywillow,” the near powerchords of “Killdozer,” the sheer garage rock glee of “Stop Stomp Stompin’” and the sudden whoops and hollers of “143” make for convincing rockers that rely less on power than unrestrained and shameless childlike enthusiasm. And then there’s “Sonic You” where they slow down and pace themselves around a genuine melody with no need to scream.