“These stupid kids, they like their old-time rhythms,” sneers Adam Moerder on the opener. You mean, like, your band’s? If so, kids ain’t stupid. Heaving sludge-bass, brass-knuckled drumming, vocals possibly hollered from a bathroom stall over shrieking guitar noise and zip-gun hooks — this Brooklyn trio’s debut is a vintage alt-rock orgy. Imagine Pavement at their butchest and Superchunk at their chunkiest, or just pick your favorite SST/Touch & Go/Amphetamine Reptile post-punk reference point (and don’t forget the Jägermeister). Sure, “Holy Name” is a shameless rip-off of Nirvana (ripping off The Pixies). But it all feels like a celebration by believers — fresh-baked nostalgia with a shit-eating grin.