Almost a decade and a half after they took basements and Tumblrs across America by storm with a raucous, self-flagellating singalong about avoiding your crush at a party, Joyce Manor have continued to mine everyday indignities for pop-punk gold. They’ve evaded the corniness and juvenility that have soured later-career records from some of their biggest inspirations. Instead, the Los Angeles band’s seventh album falls more in line with DIY lifers like PUP, Jeff Rosenstock, the Menzingers, and Los Campesinos!—all of whom have spent their last few records using gruff, rowdy pop-punk as a conduit to interrogate the genre’s inherent immaturity. They’re exploring the tension between outgrowing the scene and feeling like too much of a fuckup for anywhere else.

Read more at the link HERE.