Austin’s Chronophage made a splash last year with their vinyl debut, appealing to both dirty and clean audiences of arty post-punk. Could’ve been a one-time planetary alignment, but Th’ Pig Kiss’d Album demonstrates that it wasn’t a stroke of luck – this scruffy group is clearly onto something special. These songs showcase a band even more at ease with each other, as there’s no other way these kind of songs can come together – the bassist, the guitarist, hell even the drummer all seem to be riffing around the main structure and melody continuously, finding ways to make their otherwise modest DIY-poptunes behave unexpectedly. I’m reminded of the way Television break their songs apart after like five minutes or so, except that seems to be Chronophage’s starting point. Even one of their more jagged numbers (“Any Junkyard Dreams”) has me thinking of my favorite songs by Shoes This High and Sara Goes Pop without directly resembling either – their sound is way more Max’s Kansas City than Fuck Off Records, anyway. And while they’re clearly cool punks with asymmetrical haircuts, homemade t-shirts and post-ironic Ali Express dresses, there’s a tender vulnerability underlying these tunes, bearing witness to the sad fact that one relatively-minor car accident or illness could upend their world at a moment’s notice. The insert provides a mailing address for communication that’s “valid until Aug. 2021”, because who can count on any sort of future beyond that?-YGR