Caldicot, Monmouthshire, Wales' best band, The Bug Club, are releasing their killer new album, "Every Single Muscle," worldwide on Sub Pop. The 18-track LP includes the first single, "Watching the Omnibus," as well as around 17 other crisp, edgy, and exhilarating garage-punk numbers such as "Yours (If You Want Me)," "A Good Day for Dying," "Make It Count," and "My Uncle Warren Drives a Passat." The Bug Club are back with a new album. It's been a full seven months since their last one. Where have they been? "Every Single Muscle," the band's fifth album, is their third release on Sub Pop, the esteemed label of the Seattle-based Welsh duo. Since "Very Human Features" came out in June 2025, the BBC 6 Music and KEXP favorites have been tearing across the Atlantic on their nonstop tour, just like they used to do on the Severn Bridge. Various festival appearances throughout the summer kept them from taking a holiday – who needs a holiday when you live in Wales? – until it was time to get back into the songwriting studio. This is probably still a bedroom in Caldicott, frequented by a greyhound named Ted (watch out – he makes an appearance in one of the songs). Songwriters Sam (guitar, vocals) and Tilly (bass, vocals) are ever modest, even claiming that they were just "sitting around doing nothing" while writing "It's Our Manager David." Clearly, that's a lie. "Every Single Muscle" kicks off with "Miss Wales 2012," a reference to a competition both Tilly and Sam actually won. It's the first of many tracks on the album clocking in at under two minutes, and sets the tone for what is arguably The Bug Club's most punk-infused album to date, reminiscent of both the short, snappy snaps of their very first singles and the grunts of their more recent releases. The album is so packed with riffs and catchy hooks that Sam actually asks permission to include a solo in the second track, "A Good Day For Dying." He gets two seconds. Fortunately, Sam asks again later and gets more time. Across eighteen songs, there's enough classic guitar playing from Sam and Tilly to satisfy even the most ardent Bug Club fans and clearly refute the band's claim that they're "just technically proficient on their instruments." This album is an example of efficient maximalism—like when your dad packs the car for vacation. Bring whatever you want; space is tight, but they'll somehow manage to fit it in. As for the lyrics: While "Very Human Features" brilliantly highlighted everyday things and their absurdity, on "Every Single Muscle," The Bug Club take a closer look at themselves. Not so much in an introspective way, though, but more like an alien examining a captured specimen on an intergalactic stretcher. Horror films have their "body" subgenre; now garage rock albums are getting theirs. Self-absorbed in a completely new sense of the word, the human form and constitution are illuminated and examined from every angle throughout the album. We sense a surreal distance from the self, which breeds the pervasive, boredom-tinged humor; in the final song, Sam proclaims that he's "sick of being human." The Bug Club seem almost suspicious of the very concept of being human—as if they woke up in a costume they didn't want to put on and can't take off. Is three the magic number? Probably not. But "Every Single Muscle"—The Bug Club's third Sub Pop album—comes close enough to the idea to convince the average weirdo that it might be.