[engl] If you've ever spent any time in the darkest recesses of the internet, you'll know that 'powerpop' is an emotive term. For every pockmarked tenderfoot flying the flag for some fuzzed-out alterna-rocker's harmony-drenched new single, there's a grizzled veteran insisting that there's not enough jangle, not enough hook, not enough oomph on display ('I hear the pop, but where's the power?'). Basically, if you thought 'what is punk' was a granular debate, trust me: you ain't seen nothing yet. Anyway, sidestepping the fact that I clearly am one of their kind, let's just say a quick 'fuck those nerds'. This is where Class come in. Class are a four-piece from Tucson, AZ, who are most assuredly all the power, all the pop, all the time. They've served time in a bunch of bands you already know and love - most notably everyone's favourite 'delinquent slobs' Rik And The Pigs - and Matt Rendon of their citymates The Resonars is the guy behind the mixing desk, so you know whatever comes out is gonna be good. '2-4-1' compiles the two cassettes they've released on Cincinnati's Feel It Records (which also released their debut LP proper, 'Epoca De Las Vaqueros') and it's absolutely rammed with new pop classics. 'Steady Hands', 'Wrong Side Of Town', 'Inspect The Receipt', 'Left In The Sink'... get learning these titles now, 'cause you're gonna get very well acquainted when you spin 'em until your needle's worn down to a flattened-out nub. Sound-wise, it's pop music as envisioned by the punks - straight to the point, no fucking about. Some of these songs feel like Alex Chilton playing 'September Gurls' on a curious cocktail of cheap speed and wayyy too much sugar; others are kinda like the aforementioned Resonars if they ditched their British Invasion records and got obsessed with a heady mixture of The #1s and Richard Lloyd's 'Alchemy'. Sometimes it just sounds like a forgotten late 70s punk classic, so I think we're all in the right place here. It's scuzzy and scuffed up in all the right places, with blazing guitar solos and crashing drum fills designed to get you where you need to go, with a minimum of fuss. 'Class' is an apt name. As you'd expect from a band with three vocalists, there's more than one style at play here, meaning this record pulls from enough varying strands to keep things interesting without sounding unfocused. There's no time to get bored, unlike when reading my drivel. What the fuck are you waiting for? This is power pop at its best, punk at its funnest, a whale of a time in less than 30 minutes. Let the nerds wage war on each other - clearly, I'll be reading it - and claim your own victory by playing this one to death. This band are in a class of their own, and if I've not laid it out explicitly enough, you need to start listening. Now.

[engl] CLASS are back with 'But Who's Reading Me?', their third outing since teaming up with Feel It Records in June 2022. Recorded at Midtown Island Studios in their hometown of Tucson, Arizona, CLASS kick off their 2023 output with four stellar new cuts rounded off by alternate versions of two from their latest full length, 'Epoca de Los Vaqueros'. Fourteen minutes of punk, glam, garage, and power pop sounds swirled into one glorious EP from a group capable of writing and cranking out the hits on par with the best of 'em. The sky truly is the limit for the desert-dwelling geniuses in CLASS.

[engl] 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).

[engl] "The Artist works in a museum And that museum is rocknroll In a world of meme punk rockabilly grandads It’s the classicists that really have something to say. Straight lines, hooks, and a clear path to your heart. They might not be dbeat heart throbs But no one else can give you that feeling that you can hold on to a moment Like you are driving too fast down route 60 And it’s never going to end. In 20 years when you skulk the dark alleyways of wherever punk’s red fern grows, they won’t be talking about Dwight Twilley, the Looks, or the Nerves, they will be looking for a little CLASS." -Tobi Vail and Hayes Waring