Six years after delivering their punk-noir standout , Chicago trio return with , another dark-toned set whose apocalyptic mood borders on bleak. The longtime project of singer/bassist , singer/guitarist , and drummer , the group's brand of punk has always carried a strong thread of pop melodicism and weight of purpose with the added strains of wistfulness and desperation entering the picture on later releases. For , their seventh album overall, the band made a conscious decision to escape the Midwest and record somewhere more isolated, namely West Texas' remote live-in studio compound Sonic Ranch. There among the rugged desert vistas, dotted with cacti and patrolled by coyotes, they laid out a semi-conceptual group of songs foretelling a damaged and uncertain future. Although the lyrical imagery of wolf packs roaming empty landscapes, the ravages of environmental collapse, last words, and boneyards was written prior to the global pandemic of 2020, its release into a changed world where such notions feel imminent makes it seem even more ominous. Produced once again by longtime collaborator and co-sung/written by dueling frontmen and , the record recasts as doomsday soothsayers, moving beyond the blue-collar urban grit of the Windy City and into a wider and more desolate world. While their previous outing conjured plenty of magic out of its downcast themes, stumbles in a few places, either laying it on too thick or trading weariness for anger as if the dystopian future it anticipates has already taken its toll on our heroes. That said, 's frenetic rhythms and ragged rasp still crackle with vitality, and the more thoughtful turns in some rousing, if overly dour anthems of longing and grit. Even in this bitter mode, ' musical index remains intact with enough of the chugging riffs, quick drum breaks, and tight transitions that have made them one of the more unsung power trios of pop punk. ~ Timothy Monger