Bad Religion
Age Of Unreason

Bad Religion are like mathematics: flawless, incontrovertible, undeniable.
But above all, Bad Religion have always represented in the punk/hardcore field the reason that follows instinct, the mind that arms the hand, the wisdom that channels anger, impetuosity, and passion into something more than just music, elevating it to a true philosophy.

Born forty years ago under the Los Angeles sun and arriving perfectly healthy to our days, in the past year the award-winning duo Greg Graffin & co. has amply demonstrated their ability to move with ease and intelligence in a constantly changing music market (or what remains of it), where streaming platforms have progressively replaced for numbers and appeal the old heavy rotations, aligning with new release methods through their social channels and YouTube, surpassing the now obsolete concept that releasing a handful of singles would be plausible only as support to a full-length.

All this, ça va sans dire, has whetted the appetite for the idea of a new studio album among the hardcore fanbase, those nostalgic for the liturgy of the first listen, performed strictly with headphones, away from any distraction other than the booklet with its lyrics, graphics, and that reassuring, unmistakable smell for which Spotify is still not equipped.

Expectations absolutely met: since last May 3rd, "Age Of Unreason" has been available, the 17th album of originals for the evergreen Epitaph Records by the equally evergreen Brett Gurewitz, historical former guitarist and now a close collaborator of the Californian collective.

"The band has always represented the values of enlightenment. Today these values of truth, freedom, equality, tolerance, and science are in serious danger. This album is our response," declared Mr. Graffin during an interview immediately preceding the release of the new discographic episode, as if Bad Religion had never been properly oriented in time and space.

Because indeed, the opener "Chaos From Within" is enough to reiterate the concept, using a rhythm section as strict as a verdict and precise guitar slashes to support a text that punches the collective conscience: “Threat is urgent, existential/but the danger’s purely mental.”
And it's also the ideal calling card for Mike Dimkich (guitar) and Jamie Miller (drums) stepping in respectively for Greg Hetson and Brooks Wackerman.

"My Sanity" is a carpet of guitars on which to lay down hugged tightly to a mental health that we all risk seeing compromised by conspiracy theories and "anti-something" movements, lulled by Greg’s solfège and the classic, indispensable choruses that have made the band's fortune.

"Do The Paranoid Style" is a difficult, schizophrenic, dissonant piece not heard since the pre-chorus of "Generator" which catechizes the listener and their unprecedented extremist approach to the hottest current themes: "All kinds of wild interpretation are open to the paranoid imagination."

And while "The Approach" represents everything one could hope to find in a Bad Religion album, "Lose Your Head" is the classic rock radio track made in the U.S.A and allows you to catch your breath before the tracklist delivers the interesting "End Of History": its flavor is that of 80s punk-rock in pure Ramones style, wisely mixed with a generous trowel of scum on President Trump's anti-progressive policies.
A construct of what punk music has been and can still be when it's the strength of ideas that make up for the physiological lack of innovation at a purely musical level.

Professor Graffin takes the podium first with the title track (“It requires a common sensibility/to teach an intellectual capacity that I believe/is in the air but everywhere/is the ultimate act of treason”), then with the clear and merciless "Candidate", an ideal bridge between the frontman activity and the Ph.D. in evolutionary sociology at UCLA.
And never mind if while listening, a guy in a police coat rather than a blond-reddish toupee comes to mind; after all, populism speaks an almost universal language.

The hardcore of "Faces Of Grief" has the heavy and nervous step of a bass line and a spoken word one would expect from Washington D.C.'s parts, while the guitars go at it with finesse in "Old Regime," the track that Avenged Sevenfold would have liked to write.

The triplet "Big Black Dog"-"Downfall"-"Since Now" could be condensed into a single surf music track and lightens the tones, at least sound-wise, offering excellent suggestions for the next summer playlist.

"What Tomorrow Brings" is the track that at 3:10 is the longest on the record and adds nothing else to what we all know about Bad Religion.

Now, before you start pointing out how bland this review may seem, know that as a fan, it's not easy to explain yet another album from a quintet capable of remaining true to itself despite the burden of four decades on its shoulders and a fair number of line-up changes, a band that gained consensus within the Los Angeles punk community during the same time span in which Duran Duran and Spandau Ballet shared teenage dreams and that still dictates school today, as if to do justice to the most faithful wing of its following.
And to those who wish to draw unsustainable comparisons, know that no, this will not in any way be the new "Suffer" nor the successor to "Against The Grain".
But it is the new album of a project that will likely cease to exist the day humanity no longer needs to be told how much it sucks.
Which could also happen.
In the end, I never liked math at all.