Advlts started as a joke. A cover band no one wanted ruining an otherwise enjoyable Friday night at the saloon. Three middle aged guys who used to be in bands together reunite in millennial Baltimore for the first time in a long while and in no bands whatsoever. A plan is hashed out over beers in the charismatic front man’s soon-to-be-foreclosed-upon living room: learn all twenty-six minutes of the 1978 debut album by seminal Belgian punk rock band The Kids and play them at people, with yelling and sweating and spitting all over the microphones. Adults. Kids. Get it? No? It seemed reasonable at the time. They performed this Vegas lounge act twice. It didn’t sound so great, so they found another middle aged guy to scratch at a Stratocaster and squeal at people. That sounded better, so they wrote a bunch of “original” songs and played those at people instead of the Kids’ songs. They still like the Kids, of course. And Johnny Moped. And Charley Patton. And the Weirdos. And Really Red. And the Mekons. And Roky Erickson. They like their own guitars just fine. Not yours. In fact, they prefer you stop playing your guitars altogether. The music of this particular Advlts band is, for better or worse, punk rock music. Fast songs faster. Short songs shorter. Small amps turned up and frying. An excess of black and yellow bile. Advlts practice with rats. Advlts record in a hallway. Advlts write hooks, then hide them. Advlts make racket. Advlts do these things willfully, perversely, for their own sake. They will do so as long as they like.