Whenever the rumors that Steve Albini was working on Nirvana’s follow-up to Nevermind were made known, it all at once made sense yet was enticing and intriguing. Even today. The endless array of Nirvana knock-offs (Nirvana-“influenced”) are a decade in hindsight, so it’s pretty much to the point where a Nirvana rip-off is the same as a Who or a Beatles riff monger: it’s embedded in our ears, so who cares? “El Toppo,” the opening title track of Llama Farmers’ new album, has the audacity to take ripping to chronological levels; Steve Albini’s drum sound—the recorded-in-a-vacant-warehouse-with-the-loudest-snare-you’ve-ever-heard—is eschewed out in a drum hook all too Shellac-like. Then when Jenni Simpson, the female vocal counterpart to brother and lead vocalist Will Simpson, takes reins on the mike, she sounds like a mix of Stevie Nicks and…Courtney Love! Get it? Hole written by Kurt Cobain!

Most of Llama Farmers’ first album Dead Letter Chorus was an infectious but derivative Nirvana rip-off, either of or directly of a Nirvana influence (i.e., Pixies, R.E.M.). El Toppo, on the other hand, is a rip-off album of postulation that elevates itself higher than its aspirations. When Michael Stipe said Cobain was heading in a direction more acoustic, more Hammond organ-like, more of a Blood on the Tracks version of the known Nirvana (“Postcards & Moonrock” follows through with that type of possible direction), the album that never was became the most intriguing should-of since the Beach Boys’ SMiLE. El Toppo supposes ahead and musically imagines if Nirvana had survived, and branched into mediocrity and gimmickry—from the indie style (off)rhythms to Eno-esque (over)production. Nevermind that the fundamentally sound and hook-based songwriting sounds fundamentally weak.

And yet, the album still is so hook-friendly that it cannot do too much wrong. Will Simpson’s vocals are on the weak side, but his little sister’s parts are the album’s shining moments—Jenni’s voice merges more easily with the music, whereas Will’s hasn’t an identity. But really, I think the entire album lacks in that department. El Toppo takes derivation to a brand new level: a level of inept postmodernism, music critic theory, and through sheer luck, a level of interest.