(Make note, this isn’t The Ponys.) Spazzy DIY rock in the musical-notes-instead-of-rocks cement mixer of The Okmoniks, ADD/C, The Lipstick Pickups, Los Federales, and The Leeches, augmented by altitude sickness (they’re from Flagstaff) and screams into your left ear. At times, it’s endearing. At other times, it’s like getting a tamale and you unwrap the husk to find another husk. It’s annoying, but you can work through that, too, unpeel it again, and it’s nice and warm and soft inside with just a little bit of chicken knuckle you’ll have to spit out into a napkin. I’ve got the feeling they’re on to something, and haven’t quite figured out how their Optimus Prime should be assembled for maximum ass kicking, but am willing to double check how their creative underwear fill up for the next release.