***Second self titled album (first for Dirtnap) from hard-touring Ohio dark-punks. An improvement on their (also awesome) first album in every way. The fast songs are meaner and more aggressive, the slower songs are more textured and atmospheric. Impeccable recording, truly impressive musicianship (not a compliment you’ll hear us at Dirtnap throw around very often) and songwriting inspiration to burn. This goes way, way beyond the “punk kids playing post punk” thing going around these days. Fits in perfectly on the darker end of the Dirtnap Records spectrum, alongside suck fine company as The Estranged, The Splits, Autistic Youth Truly an important and epic mind-bender of an album. 
 
 
“There's always a reference. I had a guy wonder to me, once, whether we all didn't have big record collections so we'd know what to do; I told him if anything it was so we'd know what not to do, but that's not it either. It doesn't matter what your music brings to mind if that's all you're out to do- bring what's already out there to the mind of your listener. How cheap to exist as only reference, when you know that doing so will allow the gaps in your bargain facsimile to be filled in by your listeners' old favorites, playing on the jukebox of the mind while your pseudo-irony-dipped cassette reels around the boombox fountain. Shakespeare even said "There is nothing new'' quite a while before Superchunk ripped him off so why force it? We're all bound to similar sounds and states, a finite set of whatever rules we oh-so-inevitably choose, made infinite by the powers of imagination and music and love and hate etc. One foot in front of the other, then - one note, one step, one explosion and how that forces you to react to just that last and that possible next, how to prepare with only what we have in front of us, our minds and vicinities cleared by the resultant possibilities. We'd all play jazz for sure if we hadn't been ruined by TV. Our whole lives lived punk in some way, each of us in our own interpretation. Obviously the music follows. Arrangements tight; surroundings random. Chance occurrences held to our breasts, you'll never see the same seventeen minutes twice. Boys and girls, don't grow up, and don't ever figure it out. Nervosas are alright and so are you.” - Nervosas