Some records come with a feeling of not wanting to leave until each fuzzy drop of reverb has finished, of being late for work thanks to sitting in the car until every last track has come to a close, of missing the last bus home, just for an extra 30 seconds of encore. Vancouver's Japandroids have that appeal and more. Their lo-fi punk cum garage-rock yells about getting out of your hometown, drinking, getting girls (or not), simply being in a band, being young and getting older. Consequently, it is dumb, the vocals are daft and repetitive, but it is also essential. It leaves you breathless, spent and utterly content. It is the sound of simple done sickeningly well. It is Fugazi with more hooks and a sense of melody, it's No Age with tunes, it's a better quality Wavves if he stopped messing about with glitchtronica. The opening trinity of tracks are faultless. `Wet Hair' is particularly pleasing in a call-to-arms-for-the-disenfranchised kind of way, full of youthful dreams and fantasies, dreams, which have a realistic, but darker edge, on equal highlight `Young Hearts Spark Fire'. We used to dream, now we worry about dying, they sing in harmony. Even the album title is indicative of their don't-care-and-have-some-fun attitude; it turns their sound into a self-proclaimed year-zero for music and comes therefore with a degree of seminality. Time will only tell if that promise is seen through, but for now the sun is rising fast over these Japandroids.