Even with as long as I’ve listened to Fugazi, I am almost completely unfamiliar with Red Medicine. In fact, the only thing I hear when I think of the album is the super-gained choppy intro and the chorus of opener Do You Like Me? Purchasing the vinyl (and cassette! Gotta love overstock on record companies’ websites) was an act intended to force me to spend time with the record. Well, that and to fill in the two gaps in my collection (Steady Diet of Nothing, I’m coming for you).

But Red Medicine has been referred to as their experimental record, which, considering the double drummers, cellists, and noise-rock sections on records on either side of Red Medicine in their discography, seems like either a meaningless designation or a warning. “No, I know that Fugazi is always experimenting,” it says, hushed. “This is weird even for them.” And noisy album intro aside, I’m not so sure it’s the second. Unless a punk band making softer music that is still somehow punk is weird. Or if making consistently excellent music while adding to your sonic template is weird. If so, then yes, this is the weirdest album ever made. It is brave and demanding, affording few pop reprieves while maintaining a preference for aggressive harshness. There are some softer moments, like the dub-jazz Version or the gliding lilt of Fell, Destroyed, but the ratio is far lower here than any other release (yes, even lower than the all-out punk of their earliest EPs). But while it may not walk the line between the sweet and acidic aspects of their personality like End Hits or the Argument, Red Medicine shows Fugazi firing on all cylinders, reaching out in all directions and destroying everything they touch in a windstorm of experimental punk fury.