In contrast to the sprawling epic of their last album, punk rock opera "David Comes To Life," this album returns to rock 'n' roll basics, verse-chorus-verse-chorus. It also features guitar solos, mellotron and piano. Recorded for the first time in analogue with Bill Skibbe (The Dead Weather, The Kills, Lower Dens, Andre Williams), the album is bathed in a warm, almost romantic glow. In particular, Jonah Falco's virtuosic drumming shines forth, each snare hit shattering the air. Damian Abraham's throaty growl is not less punk, but the overall effect is a more human, relatable Fucked Up. While the imagery still includes the usual high-concept refrences (not least to classical mythology), Abraham and Mike Haliechuk's lyrics mostly address the puzzle of being in a punk rock band while having children and being in their early '30s.