The city of Cleveland is really good at two things: pretending like it cares and then giving up. It’s a trend that’s shown up in almost every facet of the city, from its failing public school system to its dead-end attempts to revitalize its less yuppie-friendly neighborhoods. Even new Cleveland punk bands will show up one day, pretend like they’re into it with a show or two, hastily record a demo tape, then give up the second it gets hard. Prison Moan, featuring members of Bad Noids, Cruelster and the Drag Hook, proves that you can show up one day, play a show or two, hastily record a demo tape, and actually make it good -- maybe even stick around.

Prison Moan’s members, aside from the bands listed above, are all too familiar with the crash-and-burn nature of the modern Cleveland punk band. Since nobody sticks around anymore, these guys took whatever shit they liked, threw it at a dusty, single-panel ceiling fan, and recorded whatever stuck. We’re left with five grainy, raw hardcore songs with a D-beat edge and a touch of the crazy riff-driven punk that seems to define the Cleveland scene lately.

The first song, “Bertholite,” clocks in at 23 seconds but seems fuller. The vocalist lets the drums and guitars fight it out for the first half of the song before going on a fatty tirade until it’s over. He’s pummeling around the room like a rhino with its horn ripped out, rolling around on the ground like a radioactive potato bug, quite literally spitting every carefully timed lyric he’s got.

The standout track is next, the bobbleheadbanger “Stir Crazy,” at a much longer 1:47. Again, the vocalist lets the instruments do the talking, often for the better, as this song not only has a relentless catch to it, but it’s got a near flawless drummer and the creative line up of two bassists and one guitarist. It gives the band a low, dark tone without straying from its more energetic and interesting punk roots. Aside from a vocal-heavy interlude, the addicting riff gets more room to breathe through the end of the song.

“Skin for Skin” and “Eyesore” are more persistent and thankless, keeping up the demo’s energy and keeping all the pieces moving as vocals and instruments converge together for two back-to-back tracks of d-beat doom. The demo closes out with a big spoonful of “hereswhatyoujustlistenedtodoyoulikeitdoyoulikeit” called “BLABLAHBLAH.” I’m not sure of the significance of the missing “h” in the first “blah,” but a lot of this band’s decisions, particularly the mostly illegible lyrics, seem entirely deliberate. Or maybe it’s just a typo.

It’s an extremely promising start for a band that seems dedicated to being around for a while, but here’s hoping their next release can keep its momentum without sounding, in some songs, like it’s just trying to maintain momentum.