In the summer between eighth grade and freshman year of high school, I gained possession of a Tooth & Nail compilation entitled Songs From the Penalty Box, Vol 4. That CD was my introduction to a number of bands that would change my life, such as Squad Five-O, Blenderhead, Craig’s Brother, Calibretto 13, and The Juliana Theory.

But nestled at the very end of the compilation was a track called “Spraypaint (We Won’t Carry Over),” a riotous blend of garage rock, punk, and ska that entranced me. And for the last several years, I have been trying unsuccessfully to track down a vinyl copy, without success.

Then last week, a record store on the East Coast discovered a box of copies that they just forgot to open. And so, I have finally added this masterpiece to my collection.

And truly, this is a masterpiece. While contemporaries like The O.C. Supertones and Five Iron Frenzy were much more well known—and more palatable—the Dingees had a more anarchic sensibility to them that found its lineage from Operation Ivy instead of The Specials. “Spraypaint” is the perfect showcase of this sonic anarchy, blending dualling lead vocals, upstroked guitars, and a theremin, at once politically charged and playful.

That playfulness follows throughout the record as the Dingees reach in all directions. At varying points, they lean into garage rock, hardcore punk, third wave ska, and dub reggae. “Summer” rocks with a fast ska beat and the only horn section on the record. “Ronnie Raygun” is a seventy-second mosh pit. “Moving Underground” is a punky ska tune that could have easily passed for an Operation Ivy track if it came out ten years earlier. It also includes the unmarked hardcore ripper “Conspiracy Against the Youth” on the same track.

Surprisingly, a lot of these tracks live in a more laid back reggae. “Dear Brother, Dear Sister” is a plea for peace among the Church (this was Tooth & Nail after all). “We Rot the Voodoo” is a gnarly take on dub reggae, complete with oscillating delays and atmospheric organs. “Latch Key Kids” is a disarmingly gorgeous tune that sheds all of their mischievousness  in favor of writing an earnestly beautiful song. “The World’s Last Light” looks forward to the renewal of all things at the end of days (“we don’t want an end, we want the beginning.”)

The closing track, “Declaration (The Crucial Conspiracy)” reworks “Spraypaint’s” chord progression into a subdued acoustic guitar track—that somehow manages to wrap up the rollicking record before with a satisfying conclusion.

Despite its clear influences, The Crucial Conspiracy never feels like it’s ripping anything off. Rather, those influences are melded together in a way that keeps them fresh even eighteen years after its release. And now that I’ve finally managed to find a vinyl copy, I’ll be enjoying it much more frequently.