The easiest way for me to describe …And Out Come the Wolves is “basically the first album by The Clash but better.” Of course, The Clash surpassed their first album with subsequent releases.

The bratty boys, the broad Latin music influences—it’s all there. Rancid’s guitars have more of a ’90s fuzz to them, but there’s not many other differences. Two major problems: the production mix is far too equalized, making this barebones punk assault run together even more than it already does. And for a barebones punk assault, a 19-song. 50-minute album doesn’t work too well. If the last six tracks were cut out completely, this would be a certified ‘modern ’90s punk classic; a short burst of addictive energy with just the right amount of dynamic songwriting variety (those synths!) despite its simplistic sonic palette.

But let’s focus on the good things. Who cares how derivative it is if it’s an improvement? …And Out Come the Wolves definitely deserves any punk fan’s time.