The Constantines: Steve Lambke, Doug MacGregor, Bry Webb, Dallas Wehrle. The Constantines have done their homework. Of the many influences laced into their fiery, raw-edged second full-length for Sub Pop Records, one can hear the Pixies, the Fall, the Replacements, and Sonic Youth. It is ironic that a band so firmly entrenched in rock's tradition would announce in their opening song, "Arizona," that they "want the death of rock & roll," but the Constantines have blended their influences in a compelling, authoritative way. The overall punch delivered by this album confirms they've come to plant a flag of their own. With their raw-throated vocals, guitars that alternately chime and crash, and songs that range from potent garage rock ("No Ecstasy") to driving thrash ("Steal This Sound") to surprisingly intimate ballads ("Saint You"), the Constantines push the right rock buttons. The group is versatile within the realm of their heavy, tightly unified sound: They don't miss a beat skipping from the math-rock drone of "Young Offenders" to the angular, nervous blues of "Justice" (complete with a minimalist synth line). Even given the glut of young, post-punk-inspired bands that flooded the scene in the early 2000s, the Constantines' brand of rock--smart, razory, and honest--shines with attitude and conviction.

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The Constantines: Steve Lambke, Doug MacGregor, Bry Webb, Dallas Wehrle. The Constantines have done their homework. Of the many influences laced into their fiery, raw-edged second full-length for Sub Pop Records, one can hear the Pixies, the Fall, the Replacements, and Sonic Youth. It is ironic that a band so firmly entrenched in rock's tradition would announce in their opening song, "Arizona," that they "want the death of rock & roll," but the Constantines have blended their influences in a compelling, authoritative way. The overall punch delivered by this album confirms they've come to plant a flag of their own. With their raw-throated vocals, guitars that alternately chime and crash, and songs that range from potent garage rock ("No Ecstasy") to driving thrash ("Steal This Sound") to surprisingly intimate ballads ("Saint You"), the Constantines push the right rock buttons. The group is versatile within the realm of their heavy, tightly unified sound: They don't miss a beat skipping from the math-rock drone of "Young Offenders" to the angular, nervous blues of "Justice" (complete with a minimalist synth line). Even given the glut of young, post-punk-inspired bands that flooded the scene in the early 2000s, the Constantines' brand of rock--smart, razory, and honest--shines with attitude and conviction.