The Bobby Lees— It’s easy to hear why they’ve earned fans in legendary musicians like Iggy Pop, Debbie Harry, and Henry Rollins. They’re as uncompromising in their sound and generous with their energy as any of their punk ancestors who first rewrote the rules of engagement back in the 1970s. Their fourth album and Epitaph debut New Self marks a thrilling new chapter for the band while doubling down on what’s always made them so magnetic. Their ferocious presence has always been undeniable, but New Self elevates their sound to even brasher heights. Produced by Dave Sardy and Alex Pasco in Los Angeles, the album sets The Bobby Lees’ signature bravado loose across a wide and reverberating soundscape. They’ve never sounded quite this expansive or emboldened before.

Rat Motel emerged with astounding elegance and ease for a structure of its size. When Old Man Winkle retired to the master suite for the last time there was a brief but violent power struggle resulting in the ascension of the brothers Peacock. (The rats, though indelibly embittered by this conclusion, were nonetheless satisfied that none of their own had clawed their way to the top.) In a fit of existential dread, unendearing arrogance, and a desperate yearning for eternity, a lofty aspect of the Motel rechristened itself “THE” Rat Motel, though the lower being refuses to carry the pretenses of such a definite article. It is what it is and that is enough. But try as The Rat Motel might to manifest the mad speculation of Zeno, the fact remains that Zeno was wrong. The infinite sum of one half raised to the power of each of the natural numbers is indeed equal to one; the hare will overtake the tortoise; and even THE Rat Motel, which towers below the universe with grinning pride, will one day crumble into THE dust of The Empty Plane with a predictable lack of elegance and ease.