Welsh duo The Bug Club have been a whirlwind since 2021: ten singles, multiple EPs, two prior LPs, a live record under alias, and 200+ gigs a year, all while somehow staying funny, scrappy, and impossible to ignore. Their Sub Pop debut, On the Intricate Inner Workings of the System, is the payoff. Clocking in at a lean 28 minutes across 11 tracks, it’s the purest distillation yet of their trademark sound: Modern Lovers snark colliding with Nuggets-era garage crunch, B-52’s call-and-response glee, and AC/DC-level riff muscle. Think Cheekface with more beer and less irony, or Dry Cleaning if they actually wanted you to dance.
It opens with a one-two punch that sets the tone perfectly. “War Movies” chugs along on distorted power chords while Sam Willmett casually lists genre highlights over a tossed-off solo so cocky it feels like a middle finger to every dad who’s ever picked up a Tele. “Quality Pints” immediately follows, hammering home the Fall-inspired repetition mantra for any band that’s ever toured: pints, repetition, pints. Tilly Harris’s bass and backing vocals lock in with Willmett’s deadpan lead, turning pub philosophizing into anthemic punk.
The record never lets up. “Pop Single” delivers exactly what it promises—catchy, self-aware, and meta as hell. “Lonsdale Slipons” pays loving tribute to Britain’s worst shoes. The near-title track “We Don’t Care About That” stretches to four-and-a-half minutes of glorious “shut up” energy, dismissing small talk, hot takes, and everything in between. “A Bit Like James Bond” turns mundane middle-aged hobbies (Hornby trains, duty-free fags, gluten intolerance) into suave espionage fantasy. Even the brief closer, the actual title track, ends things on a curt “it’s bigger than you, so shut your bloody mouth about the system.”
Beneath the constant piss-taking lies real craft. The arrangements are skeletal but never thin—Violent Femmes-style bass lines, face-melting solos, and lo-fi warmth that somehow feels massive. “Actual Pain” and “Cold. Hard. Love.” hint at darker edges, proving the humor isn’t armor so much as the way these two process the world. It’s the rare album that makes you laugh out loud while sneaking in genuine emotional resonance.
When most indie rock either takes itself too seriously or chases algorithmic whimsy, The Bug Club just sound like they’re having the absolute best time—and inviting you along. On the Intricate Inner Workings of the System isn’t trying to save rock; it’s too busy making it fun again. Crank it, pour a quality pint, and repeat. You can’t get better than good.