What began in 2020 as a loose excuse to jam with a rotating cast of friends has since formed into something much sharper. Frontman Matthew Savage and guitarist Luca Santilli built the bones of The Fake Friends before locking into a steady lineup, and now on their sophomore album, Let’s Not Overthink This, that chemistry snaps into focus. The record — out now via Stomp Records — finds the band refining their jittery post-punk instincts into something wiry, stylish, and deliberately unhinged.

Genre tags only get you so far here. Yes, there are flashes of Franz Ferdinand’s dance-floor precision and Parquet Courts’ sardonic bite. You can hear the nervy minimalism of Wire, the art-damaged cool of Pylon, the scrappy propulsion of Cloud Nothings. But Let’s Not Overthink This feels less like a checklist of influences and more like a late-night transmission from a city that won’t shut up — neon reflections, cold sidewalks, and the particular clarity that hits when you’re half wired and half exhausted.

The album opens with “Ministry of Peace,” a jittery broadcast tower of a track, guitars slicing through cultural static as Savage repeats “no truce” like a mantra against media overload. From there, the band toggles between melodic venom and anxious self-awareness. “A Sucker Born Every Minute” lunges forward with punchy hooks and a knowing smirk, while “The Way She Goes” pulls back into sleek restraint, simmering in the tension between desire and self-sabotage.

At the centre sits focus track “HyperConnection,” the record’s nervous heartbeat. It’s tight, shimmering, and sometimes even claustrophobic with Savage skewering astrology, choking on long books, and spiralling through social pressure as the refrain “all eyes on me” curdles from confidence into paranoia. It’s the clearest distillation of what The Fake Friends do best: turn everyday absurdity into something cathartic and danceable.

Then there’s “Backstreet’s Back, Pt. II,” which leans fully into darker swagger. It plays like a horror-movie breakup anthem — as if AJ from the Backstreet Boys fell on very hard times and hired a post-punk band like Viagra Boys to soundtrack his comeback. It’s cheeky, sure, but there’s an element of menace under that grin.

Across its 11 tracks, Let’s Not Overthink This balances exuberance with cynicism. There’s hardcore muscle under the floorboards, but the chaos is controlled. The production (tracked at Mixart with Jordan Barillaro and mastered by Vince Soliveri) keeps things tight without sanding off the grit; the edges are part of the appeal.

By the time closer “Good Friends” strips everything back to piano and voices, ending on the bitterly funny line “you fuckin’ hate this town,” the record has come full circle and we’re miraculously ready to finish our pint and head home. A cold walk in Montreal’s brisk winter air might be just what we need to dilute the impending hangover that awaits.