Drug Church

Sometimes, it’s hard to believe Drug Church even exists. The band is comprised of a singer from a weird art rock collective and four dudes who previously played pop-punk, and somehow it clicks into this chaotic explosion of grungy pop songs filtered through Flipper’s Generic that’s leaps and bounds better than any of the members’ other projects. Nothing about Hit Your Head makes any sense, and that’s why it’s so fucking great: Patrick Kindlon hoarsely yells about turning apples into bongs (“Drunk Tank”), punching through drywall (“Hit Your Head, Greedy”) and payday loans (“Banco Popular”) with nary an adjustment in his tone, while his band delivers riffs so crunchy, it’s making Tom Capone jealous. (And that bass tone—oh, that bass tone!) The album only slows for its closing number, “What,” a spoken-word number with Kindlon sharing a story of bottoming out that feels so real, it’s hard to assume it’s anything but nonfiction.