After the release of the doomgazy single “Julia” and the subdued [untitled] e.p.,  speculation was high as to what the forthcoming [Untitled] full-length would bring.

But the similarity of covers between the releases seemed to promise an explosion.

Across social media, that theory seemed to be confirmed. When drummer Rickie Mazzotta was asked if the full-length would be as quiet as the e.p., he said, “that’s porch-sittin’ music. The album is cliff-diving music.”

And that promise was not just an empty markting ploy. This record is fiery, seeming to exist in the scorched wasteland left after the apocalypse of Pale Horses. It feels a bit like they remembered a thing or two about themselves on last year’s “[A–>B] Live” Tour, the same way that Pale Horses felt informed by the anniversary tour for Catch For Us the Foxes (It helps that interim bassist Dom Angellela played on that tour, so their earlier, more chaotic stuff was his point of reference).

“9:27a.m., 7/29” opens the record with fury and rancor, Aaron pushing his voice harder than ever. “Another Head for Hydra” and “Flee, Thou Matdors!” find the band playing the closest thing to straight punk riffs since their first full-length. “Michael, Row Your Boat Ashore” is a chaotic atmosphere of heavy, bluesy guitar chords and thick layers of Aaron’s wailing laments of his mental state.

This is far from a retread of their [A–>B] past life though. This record also features some of their most sparse tunes. For all of its thick, sludgy atmosphere, “Julia” is carried by layers of a delicate vocal performance. “Winter Solstice,” which appeared on the e.p., returns, though accompanied by more urgent drums and more layers of electric guitars. “2,459 Miles” and “Break On Through (To the Other Side) [pt. Two]” are drumless acoustic ballads, but they couldn’t be further from the rambling quirkfolk of it’s all crazy! They are delicate, but desperately bleak.

But the middle ground betwen the fire and desolation is where [Untitled] really shines. “Tortoises All the Way Down” and “[dormouse sighs]” brood beneath a surface of punk fury, bubbling without full exploding. “New Wine, New Skins” spends the first half of its runtime as one of the quietest songs on the album, Aaron singing over an intricate cascade of electric guitar harmonics. Then halfway through, the band explodes, Rickie Mazzotta providing an angular beat that no one else is capable of.

And while the band is both their most furious and most pensive on this record, Aaron offers up his most impressive performance ever. His vocals range from his most throat-tearing screams to a barely-sung whisper. His words are as dense as ever—the lyric sheet is filled with stage queues, dialogue markers, and all matter of punctuation that drastically add to the meaning. Historical figures, literary characters, and Biblical heroes mingle with sentient animals, his loved ones, and Aaron’s own neuroses. “2,459 Miles” plays like a tender love song to his wife, until the chorus chimes in with the reminder, “you could leave me any time.”

While most of the album lives in a place of bleak hopelessness, it ends with an odd piece of optimism. “Do You really make all things new? I have reason to believe You do.” “Someday, I’ll find me.” It’s a fitting line for a release that adds another diverse chapter to what is already one of the most diverse discographies of all time.