AJJ's eighth full-length album, "Disposable Everything," is very much a record of our times. The newly expanded folk-punk heroes applied their trademark wit and intensity to chronicle a not-so-post-COVID society, expertly capturing the layers of psychic pain we've collectively grappled with since early 2020. Sprinkled across that dissection of our sociopolitical quagmire is even more cultural criticism that's been essential to the band's 20-ish-year career. It's a record about grief and longing and how we've twisted and tortured ourselves collectively into a state of pure madness. Yet at the same time, the band cling to memories of family, and the simple magic of merely playing music together, and that imbues the record with a whole new sheen of, perhaps not optimism, but something close enough. The end result is a multifaceted achievement for AJJ — a collection that sings of deep pain with a slight tinge of hope that maybe we can make it out the other side together. The record doesn't offer guidance or insight into achieving that fate, but you'll find yourself a mighty companion for the weird days ahead.