Complicated Shirt have created an instant classic.

Instant classic. Within a week of Strigine coming across my desk, it had been ripped to my hard drive so I could listen to it constantly without hunting down the actual physical disc. I was putting my favorite tracks on mix CDs alongside indie rock mainstays I've been listening to for years.

The reasoning? When The Strokes finally let go of all the rage they've been repressing for the past five years, lose their insecurities as random chart toppers, kick some ass, trash their careers, lose their label and stew in their own juices for a few more years before finally admitting they really did love to rock, then steal an 8-track and record a brilliantly mean-spirited album of jeers, jabs and jackin'-off, they'll sound almost like Complicated Shirt. Except Complicated Shirt will still be much better. And I like The Strokes. So get this fucking album.

Get it for "Pitch Doctor Slogan", the kind of scathing barrage of insults you'd expect from a drunken genius who's had it up to here. Drew Benton pulls together just enough lucidity to spit out searing satire of the technologically obsessed world of modern pop. "Do you have a heartbeat? / I don't think that you do / You need a computer / To keep you in tune! ... You know who you are / So you know we hate you ... Pitch doctor bitch / the talent abyss / Autotune your soul / till it doesn't exist / Ineffably vacuous abysmal / Piece of shit!" And he goes on like that.

Next comes album masterpiece "We Are the World". The perfect antithesis to a more famous, more seasoned song of the same title, it tosses off a disturbingly elaborate description of the cruelty of life as if it were nothing. To wit: "You exist to be obsequious / No dreams to be defiant / You climbed the entire beanstalk / to get fist-fucked by the giant! / You're like Reginald Denny trying / to drive through the LA riots / Every complaint you've ever filed / We just tell you to keep quiet!" And later, "We pour bleach under your eyelids / and get off from all your crying! / And you get no paycheck / And you get no handshake / But thanks for your face man / It made a great ashtray." Guitar solo!

So it goes. Benton's violently spewed whiskey- and cigarette-tinged vocals belie his (and supporting player Jonathon Pellerin's) brilliant rock musicianship. Their recording equipment probably cost about a hundred bucks, but behind all the fuzz -- and indeed, snuggled up warmly inside it -- is strong technique that, again, calls us back to The Strokes, with yet another positive comparison.

With Complicated Shirt you get the full indie rock experience. Not only can you enjoy the music, but you can feel smugly certain that you've found something the majority of people will never even hear of, let alone learn to love. Benton clearly isn't interested in "appealing to a broad audience" -- he focuses his energies on being as delightfully mean-spirited as he can be. So act quickly. Grab Strigine while it lasts. For the moment, and for a long time hence, this is one of the absolute best, smartest, most entertaining albums you can buy.