Upcoming Releases

11/21/2025
Let’s Tip the Landlord
The Brokedowns Let’s Tip the Landlord Punk Rock Theory
 on
Thursday, October 16, 2025 - 07:45
submitted by
Thomas

Chicago punk mainstays The Brokedowns are back, and they’ve brought 13 new songs of fury, satire, and full-throttle heart with them. Their new album, Let’s Tip the Landlord, arrives November 21 via Red Scare Industries (pre-order). 

Their upcoming release finds the band reflecting on the moral rot beneath modern comfort. If previous records skewered the American dream with a laugh and a power chord, this one kneels before it, uncomfortably, ironically, maybe even sincerely. Recorded between day jobs and digital meetings, the songs worship at the altar of hustle culture, crypto salvation, and the influencer gospel of self-optimization.

While not a concept album, it does feature a recurring figure: Alpha Dog Serum X, a fictional miracle drug endorsed by all the coolest billionaires and influencers. The album’s opening track—a musical tribute to QAnon moms taking over school boards—sets the tone for a record that’s as biting as it is fun. If dorks like Elon or Logan Paul heard this music, they’d never get the joke.

Let’s Tip the Landlord, recorded by Joe Gac (Meat Wave) and featuring Lily Choi (Chicken Happen) and Bruce Lamont (Yakuza), the album fuses heavy rhythms with singalong melodies, using them like hammer and tongs to take aim at our societal ills. It may sound grim, but no one has more fun with our stupid culture than The Brokedowns—so you may as well get in on the roast.

The Brokedowns first came together in the northwest suburbs of Chicago, where life has a way of outlasting ambition. Kris Megyery (guitar/vocals), Eric Grossmann (guitar/vocals), Jon Balun (bass/vocals), and Mustafa Daka (drums) forged their sound in the industrial glow of Chicagoland, channeling blue-collar grit through a lens of existential comedy and transforming Midwest frustration into something loud enough to sound like hope. They continue to turn absurdity into anthem, proving that sarcasm can still be sincere and that even in an age of algorithmic enlightenment, guitars, drums, and a little self-loathing can still cut through the noise.