Iceage, New Brigade.

My first impression of this instantly disarming album is that it’s staggering great. I only hesitate because it moves faster, both musically and intellectually, than you can keep up with. It’s a tricky job, listening to this layered, frenetic masterpiece.

You could say Iceage mashes together every great punk band of the past 40 years or so, from Buzzcocks to Wire to Nirvana.

Because I was away, I just missed a chance to see Iceage live in New Haven on June 23 at the offhand venue Popeye’s Garage. I regret it, but at the same time I’m not sure I could have handled it.

Now, I may well wake up some morning and decide that Iceage sucks. That’s punk for you. For now, I’m intoxicated.