First, struggle to achieve success. Then, easily achieve failure. For bands that break it big with their debut albums, there’s the ever-present danger of falling victim to the sophomore slump.

Whether a band cracks under the pressure to live up to expectations, or it simply loses inspiration, having a weaker second album is a pattern that occurs in music all too often.

However, a select few artists rise above stereotypes and refuse to let their band be a part of this slighted statistic. With the release of its self-titled second album, The Bronx can consider itself a member of the fighting few who continue to reinvent and create breakthrough music.

With rock’n’ roll having been around such a long time, it seems almost cliche to see bands with rebellious attitudes that are attempting to defy what’s considered conventional.

But what makes The Bronx such a consistently good band is that whatever it does, it does with complete and utter unapologetic sincerity, and this new record embodies that spirit.

The album writhes with rebellion in a way that hasn’t even been hinted at in years. Often times when the word rebellion is used people think of some pissed-off punk kids making loud and fast music.

But that is not all that is going on. Not to confuse anyone, The Bronx is still pissed off, but it seems the band has matured and moved forward with how it expresses itself.

The Bronx expresses this “rebel-yell” brilliantly by making this record its most diverse to date.

While still filled to the brim with spitfire fast punk rock tunes (like “History’s Stranglers” which churns out a downright dirty cadence that brings to mind a band of zombies thrashing toward screaming victims) about a conflicting love/loathe relationship with L.A., betraying friends and loving, the album also has its slower moments.

At first listen I wasn’t too sure about songs like “Dirty Leaves” and “Safe Passage,” which trade cat-scratch screams for soulful singing and slap-in-the-face rock n’ roll guitar riffs for more introspective playing.

But while totally different than previous material, the diversity in sound really works.

And that is the basic principal of the album. It’s a new record with a sound unlike anything else they’ve done (especially tracks like “White Guilt,” which is best described as what Lynard Skynard would’ve sounded like if they were homeless on the streets of Hollywood).

But that right there is the rebellion that characterizes The Bronx. The band refuses to cater to convention, and so instead it forges new ground by not only reinventing its sound, but by reinventing its genre, too.