Drone-y and kinda minimal post-punk with an almost Krautrocky tidiness to the beat. It’s pretty audacious to open up with a song as repetitive as “I Know Where You’ve Been,” but Keough actually cracks the mold halfway through for a ripping guitar solo and some snotty, corrosive vox. And that’s the trick, here. You think it’s one thing, and then it’s something else entirely. “Self Doubt” has the ’80s indie-roar of Husker Du, “3:32 AM” is pure Pixies, “Back to Punk Rock” has the ragged beat and space-acid guitar of Chrome, etc. Something new around every corner, anchored by Keough’s mopey, Black Planet sensibility. “Deliver the Goods” is the killer of the bunch, though. It sounds like somebody hit Marc Bolan in the head with a frying pan seconds before T Rex hit the stage but he played the gig anyway, blood dripping through his corkscrew hair. I didn’t expect much, given the cover – it’s a dude’s hand, that’s it – but I got plenty. This dude knows what’s up.