A few months ago, I realized that despite years of guest features, tours with bands I love, and general cultural osmosis, I had never actually knowingly listened to Manchester Orchestra.

A shocking omission, I know. And I’m not totally sure how I managed to pull it off. But upon the realization, I set off to correct it as soon as I could. Which proved to be a daunting task—with five full lengths, several EPs, and a number of collaborative projects, Andy Hull & Co. has made a massive impact on the indiesphere (massive enough for me to feel like I was already a fan, in fact).

But when I finally dug into their catalog, I was surprised to discover how far off my imagining of them was. Having seen their name on tour posters alongside mewithoutYou, Brand New, and the Dear Hunter, and heard Hull’s voice on tracks by bands like Touche Amore and O’Brother, I had always expected them to be a dark emo band. So you can imagine my surprise when I realized I had learned how folksy they are. In fact, I had remembered hearing a number of their songs on the indie rock Pandora station that plays at my wife’s shop. Not that that was a bad realization—just surprising.

However, Cope hits a bit closer to the mark of my expectations, underpinning the Americana-tinged popcraft of Hull’s songwriting with an explosive guitar attack. The insightful lyricism and sing-along ready hooks are as present as ever, but they are paired with a brutal punk catharsis that is as immediately satisfying as anything they’ve done.

The album’s aggression is evident from the first note, “Top Notch” comes out of the gate with fiery electric distortion and aggressive drums which give way to palm muted power chords in the verse, in place of the acoustic guitars that might fill that space on other albums. The song explodes with Hull practically screaming, “we all believed in ghosts until you walked into the wall”—a perfect example of his ability to paint poignant images with his words.  On “Choose You,” he waxes on the ideas of philopher Paul Virilio: “The invention of the ship was the invention of the shipwreck.” The song then wrestles with doubt and the measure of a man through a midtempo punk energy. “See It Again” grapples with mortality in the face of someone else’s death between heavy walls of guitars. “Trees” leans hard into a minor key and dark guitars. Closer “Cope” slows down the tempo and turns up the amps, landing around not too far from a grungy, doomy shoegaze a la Lume or Teenage Wrist.

It’s not all doom and gloom though—there are plenty moments of brightness. “Girl Harbor” bursts with major chords and plinking keys (or is that a vibraphone?). “The Mansion” has a casual slacker rock vibe that almost feels like a slower Weezer—if Rivers had a much greater ability for poignant storytelling. “Every Stone” is almost breezy, despite the ache of morality in the lyrics. Musically “Indentions” feels almost like a slowed down revisiting of “Every Stone,” synths and pianos accompanying lyrics about a church burning, the marks his life will leave on the earth, and the nature of God.

What’s most remarkable about this album though is that even when the arrangements indulge in the lowest hanging fruit, it’s still incredibly gratifying. There’s very little of Manchester Orchestra’s usual intricacy here—mostly just loud parts and quiet parts. But that simplicity allows for the subtlety of Hull’s lyrics to speak so much louder. To see just how effective it is, just compare it to Hope, the acoustic reimagining of the same album, which feels toothless in comparison.