You’re in a bowls club, which has this unique way of getting you paralytic and telling lies to old men, and an amazingly dressed trad goth lady says “Vampire are the greatest band in Melbourne”, so you spend two years with the information and just when you’ve almost forgotten the whole interaction they release one of the best punk records to come out this side of the 2020s. A triple threat cleansing ritual of anarchy in its Greek praxis incarnation, the album wraps the system of Nihilistics up in torn Gauze and rumbles like a caravan of crusties right through the windows of the milk bar on the corner. If you don’t come away from the foldback with bruises on your knees you’re doing it wrong. No responsibility, know your own authority, hey man, you want it? You take it.