Scalia’s coming. You and your bleeding-heart buddies are mad as hell, and you’re not going to take it anymore. It’s elbow-throwing time, and luckily enough for all you indignant liberals, Wesleyan’s illustrious concert series has got you covered.

Enter two reformed Los Angeles skate rats named Randy and Dean. They are No Age. Randy plays guitar, and Dean plays drums and sings. And they’re coming to the hallowed halls of the Eclectic Haus this Thursday to destroy your body and devour your heart.

Forged somewhere in sweat-stained backrooms of all-ages punk shows, No Age are at once dream-weavers and thunder gods, their furious two-man juggernaut equal parts ecstatic hooks and blistering waves of noise. Taking cues from both the delicate, drawn-out soundscapes of shoegaze and the punishing fuzz of noise, No Age churn out unforgettable blasts of euphoric mania, tangles of thrashing guitars, and spastic drumming concealing the gooey hooks at the heart of every three-minute onslaught. They make noise fun and pop dangerous, all while keeping fists in the air and eyes pointed skywards.

Rising from the rubble of the hardcore group Wives in the final days of 2005, Randy Randall and Dean Allen Spunt honed their sound as No Age at The Smell: the all-ages, substance-free rock club that has served as the proving grounds for kindred spirits like punk-experimenters The Mae Shi and HEALTH.

“The Smell is where we got to experiment and find what kind of band we wanted to be,” Randall told Drew Tewksbury in a 2008 interview. “It pushed the boundaries of whatever ideas we had about music—and we had a community to try out these new ideas.”

And thank the punk gods they did. Since the 2007 release of compilation album Weirdo Rippers, the duo has risen the ranks to indie-rock godheads, with their combination of pop songcraft and punk gusto earning them massive critical acclaim and a spot at legendary indie label Sub Pop.

And they’ve only gotten better. Their proper debut LP, 2008’s unforgettable Nouns, solidified their rightful place among the upper echelons of today’s very finest rock acts. One listen to Nouns’ standout “Teen Creeps” puts it all in perspective. Some warbly noise, a few jangly strums, and then the levees break. Randall kicks the Big Muff and Spunt thunders behind him, a flurry of crash cymbals and snare—“Wash away what we create/My sins like funny calls you make,” Spunt wails, shouting to be heard above the starry-eyed din.

The duo followed the album with 2009’s Losing Feeling EP and Everything In Between, Nouns’ proper successor, in 2010. In those two years, No Age grew up. Well, sort of. Just as loud and exultant as their past work, Everything in Between couched reflections on getting older in dreamy fuzz by adding a touch of melancholy but never forgetting the gorgeous melodicism, propulsive drive, and sheer volume of noise they cultivated all those years back at The Smell.

And here we are. The duo brings their delirious fever dream of a punk act to Eclectic this Thursday, a cathartic send-out to the first half of the semester. Your eardrums have had plenty of time to heal since Lightning Bolt last spring—you could use a little hearing loss. It’s good for the soul; it builds character. Brooklyn girl-punk bruisers EULA, who chart the same nebulous space between pop hooks and haymakers, will open. Eclectic doors open at 9:30 p.m, which gives you plenty of time to let your liberal rage stew for a bit after Antonin gets you all riled up.

You can reserve tickets at and pick them up at Usdan all this week for $5 a pop. Brace yourself.

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