Across the last several years, it’s been almost impossible to have any presence in the Midwestern DIY scene without running into Idle Threat. The Nashville post-hardcore outfit has been the dictionary definition of workhorses, playing every small festival I’ve been to (or organized), and even organizing their own.

And for years, they’ve done this all as an entirely independent band. Then, fate moved the hands of justice, and they were added to the iconic Tooth & Nail Records (alongside fellow indie workhorses Salt Creek and Valleyheart).

That deal brought about Blurred Visions, the long-awaited debut full-length. While it’s obvious that they had some additional funds, it retains all of the passion and earnestness of their early EPs without ever getting unfocused with the longer running time.

Having primarily heard Idle Threat live instead of on record, there’s always the chance that their energy could be diluted by filtering it through microphones and interfaces and music editing software. I’ve heard enough dull albums by energetic live bands to know the danger is there. And given just how powerful and authentic Idle Threat’s live shows have always been, the risk ran high here.

But it proved to be a needless worry. Every aspect of their live show is presented in its essential purity. Their fusion of hardcore fury, shoegaze atmospherics, and emo earnestness is captured perfectly without compromising any element. In fact, the one-two punch of the punk viciousness of “Damage Control” and the cinematic emo-to-doom of “Playing Dead” feels like the clearest encapsulation of the Idle Threat live experience I’ve had short of seeing them in front of me.

Even more earnest than their musical convictions though are their spiritual ones. Their devotion is portrayed in heart-wrenching sincerity, and—far more rare—humility. Idle Threat is devout, but they aren’t holier-than-thou. The lyrics are filled with confessions of guilt and scramblings for answers. This is most clearly seen in the spacious ballad “Simon,” in which clean vocalist Zeke McKinney puts himself in the place of St. Peter on the night of Christ’s betrayal. However, this spiritual sincerity runs through the entire record without self-consciousness.

This is the sort of record that I grew up listening to from Tooth & Nail: music that is uncompromising in its devotion to both punk and faith. And it’s exactly what’s been missing from Tooth & Nail’s roster for years. But this is a massive step in the right direction. And as long as they let Idle Threat keep being Idle Threat, I think everyone wins.