By naming his band the Voltage this time around, Jeffrey Lewis makes it clear as day that he's more interested in cranking up the amps than he was before. While his lyrics remain wry, witty, and complex, the music sounds much closer to fizzy post-punk and indie pop than the scraggly anti-folk he was known for around the turn of the millennium. His subject matter is headier and more existentialist than ever, with much of the album addressing the confusion and hopelessness of growing older and living in a corrupt society that feels like it's heading closer to destruction. He pokes fun at himself on "My Girlfriend Doesn't Worry," wherein he lists dozens of the restless thoughts running through his head that he doesn't bring up with his girlfriend because he doesn't want to bum her out. Other highlights like "Exactly What Nobody Wanted" and "Except for the Fact That It Isn't" are extremely gleeful expressions of sheer pointlessness, with packed-in, mile-a-minute verses wedded to pogo-worthy hooks. Even the songs that seem lighter and more fun have a sort of bittersweet undercurrent. "LPs" is a joyous recollection about growing up in the '90s and buying every classic rock record he could find because they were dirt cheap, but he mentions being alone in his obsession, as his friends didn't share his passion for cratedigging. (And of course the days of inexpensive vinyl are over, so he mainly buys used CDs.) "Dogs of My Neighborhood" is a rollicking tune about appreciating other people's pets, but not actually being able to own one. Not that he really seems to mind not being responsible for taking care of one, mind you. Spacy final track "Not Supposed to Be Wise" is an epic "what's the point?" which would seem totally depressing if it wasn't so relatable. Lewis remains a top-notch songwriter, and even as life gets crazier, he's able to channel his attempts to process it all into thoughtful, enjoyable music.