Class Epoca De Los Vaqueros

Class of Tucson AZ—instantly familiar, idiosyncratic to the max, a glorious collision in which several of American punk’s leading lights emerge from their vehicles unscathed (though I make no promises for the rest of you, see below). What more can I say about 2022’s most eagerly anticipated full-length album? (a bit more as it turns out, which is fortunate as my fee is pretty expensive, onerous, even) These songs have the requisite crunch / glue ratio and more than anyone else in their idiom, remind me of moments that don’t happen nearly enough, in rock, in life, when your eyes are closed, anywhere. I don’t think it’s a huge stretch to presume the persons responsible for these gems are keen students of the last 40+ years of underground/overground sounds (the good shit anyway), but there’s a singular voice, a defined worldview if you will, somehow cutting through our bland, brutal, grim as fuck moment in history. If you think I’m building Class up a bit much, I can promise you this—there’s at least a half dozen people I know who will hear this record and immediately fall into the throes of a deep depression because they’re not in this band. And if you’re wary of being hyped-2-death, spare a thought for me for just a minute. I’m the one who’s gonna have to talk them off a ledge (figuratively, it’s mostly single stories in this part of the country)."—Gerard Cosloy.