“Bathwater” is the peak with its mournful saxophone peal and rhythmic surge it even flirts with the anthemic. Tempo changes, whorls of melody, the guitar as filigree rather than anchor - this Brisbane trio whose guitarist/singer can claim a Go-Between as a dad recalls The Raincoats in their friendly but ambivalent relation to songcraft. But bands like them also regard post-punk as ethos, not marching orders. Since 2016 the Goon Sax have expanded their record collection without an attendant honing of their craft. When the amateurishness of this redoubt of post-punk proves unsurmountable, whether as poor vocalizing or inapt horn honking or obscurantic lyrics, I despair at the persistence of these values. Three acts contend with the travails of modern masculinity using compassion, detachment, and the occasional flipped bird.