Hell yeah. These ears are always thirsty for great music that rocks in new ways. The Arrivals amaze me. Their lyrics are whipsmart, heartfelt, and honest. The instruments crackle like unharnessed lightning and contain an untraceable chemical that has me reaching for the repeat button again and again. What gets me is how catchy they are without being either too simple and boneheaded about it, and the songs are relatively complicated, but they make the music flow so easily and forcefully. With bands like The Arrivals, I get the feeling that it’s four guys playing the exact same song for the exact same reason at the exact same time. That may seem like a real obvious thing, but it’s not. How many bands do you see or hear, and it sounds like they’re going for an effect or are aping an already stripped sound, or they endlessly tinker, or the individual members can’t wait to boost themselves in the mix? Far too many. Not only are The Arrivals technically tight, they’re seamless. The result is pure propulsion, complete charge, a completely new take on punk that jettisons cliche. Take the solid fuel rocket boosters of Naked Raygun, bolt it through an honest sounding voice (a strong, sure, non-mimicking one), structure the songs so they sound instantly classic, yet couldn’t have been made ten years ago (fuck if I know how they do it), and dash in a little Dillinger Four (I’ll never say that lightly), and let it all sizzle and pop. Don’t let the emo-y, bulb-setting blur-fest picture on the cover steer you wrong. This is crystal clear explosion. Snatch this fucker up. It’s fantastic.