Punk’s not dead. It’s just been hiding in Denmark, where four teenagers found it in the streets of Copenhagen in 2008 and unleashed its fury back upon the world.

Ripping through twelve tracks in twenty-eight minutes, their second album, You’re Nothing, is a piece of fist-pumping, push-moshing rage in the tradition of Black Flag. The guitars are loud almost to harshness, the bass is fuzzed up, the drums pound mercilessly, and vocalist Elias Bender Rønnenfelt pushes his sloppy baritone to its breaking point.

But these songs aren’t four four power chord thrashers: there’s a sophistication here rarely found in punk. As a whole, the band typically relies much more with intertwining guitar and bass melodies than churning out chord changes. They’re also masters of atmosphere, creating space where most punk bands would stuff another speed riff–specifically on the opening portion of “Morals,” which misleads you into thinking it’s going to be a ballad, complete with piano. But even with this sophistication, there’s much-neededed sloppiness. There’s nothing pretty about this (not even the first half of “Awake,” which could be a radio-ready pop punk single in less punk hands), and that’s exactly as it should be.

Also, on the vinyl sleeve, the watermark on the cover is printed in high gloss, which makes one of the year’s best album covers even better.