When Vancouver's White Lung made a big splash with 2010 debut It's The Evil, they'd already been working hard for four years-current guitarist Kenneth William joining founding members Mish Way (vocals) and Anne-Marie Vassiliou (drums) in 2008-this explains how it came to be that on their debut album, White Lung sounded so evolved. They were already making music that, though easily chalked up as post-hardcore punk, was remarkably, gratifyingly challenging and imaginative. Their songs, which only pass the two-minute mark when they're careening so wildly the band can't quite grind to a proper halt in time, can come off as dense and monolithic, but listen closer: White Lung aren't just jackhammering chords into your skull. There's a lot more going on - it's just that these songs are so loud and fast that their mind-boggling complexities are compressed into a blur as they rush by. This gives White Lung a jittery, panicked edge that is unique: it sounds like the fire of long-suppressed energy and emotion bursting forth, but still bears the scars from the traumatic time before the music started up, when it was still contained under unbearable pressure. This band has always sounded wonderfully immediate, but they've never sounded temporary. There has always been a sense of history (personal or societal) woven into the sonic texture of their work, and that history has always been weighted, fraught, ugly.