“Forget about the things that don’t matter,” urges Pinsky in opening its latest full-length CD, “Losing Touch.” Despite best intentions, the Portland pop-punk foursome plays a lousy cool and detached.

With one bludgeoning anthem after another, “Losing Touch” is a mess of Sturm und Drang exhilaration, blasting forward to spite of horribly open wounds. Fully baked melodies notwithstanding, Jack Johnson this is not.

There’s never a feeling of technical for technical’s sake; Pinsky’s earned its way to being comfortable in its own collective skin.

“Monotony” builds on careful orchestration and well-placed full-blast passion. “By Your Side” features a pied-piper organ, drawing the song into welcomed depths, and closing with a bonus lo-fi trash talk. It’s hard to pin the cause — maybe it’s Pinsky’s intransigent desperation, but there’s something undeniably likable here.

“The Ocean” will surely draw some goosebumps from Maine natives; the knives-out track manages to use under-the-sea imagery and not sound cliche.

Pinsky shares much with the wonderfully irrational emo-mates in Max Bemis and Say Anything. Screaming their lungs out, Jeff Roberts and Peter Vachon trade off pushing past what’s reasonable for their voices on purpose. With lyrics just so unhinged, the result is constant catharsis for both ears and performers, angst celebrated heartily as a natural, and even healthy, exercise.

It’s a tough stance to contend with right after you’ve happily soaked in “Losing Touch” for the second and third times.

Mike Olcott is a freelance writer who lives in Portland and Boston.