Eugene Hütz opens We Mean It, Man! repeating “We exist in a mystical realm and nobody knows how it works.” His thesis is that nobody has the manual or the authority, and nobody understands this chaos anymore than you do so don’t trust governments, don’t trust religious dogma, and don’t trust suits. From that opening statement it’s maximum intensity, with every member exploding with ferocious passion and groove from start to finish.

The title track tears forward for four breathless minutes before climaxing in a rip-roaring saxophone solo. This is classic Gogol Bordello, but sharpened. Back in the mid-2000s when punk was splintering into Celtic variants, ska revivals and acoustic folk-punk subgenres, Gogol Bordello stood out as a glorious madcap festival oddity, looking like they’d wandered into Warped Tour completely by accident. On We Mean It, Man! they don’t feel strange at all. Instead, they feel like an authoritative institution. The punk carnival is intact, but the accordion and violin no longer read as novelty.

Life Is Possible Again swings with a seafaring lilt while No Time For Idiots digs deep into Eastern European melodic tradition. The songs throughout are fantastically tight and purposeful blasts of energy, concise rather than meandering. Eugene Hütz seems commited to never ageing, and his theatrical circus oddball persona has matured into something more literary that hasn’t lost any of its energy or absurdity with thoughts that come thick and fast with reflection, urgency, and weight.

In their early days, few of their listeners could have pointed to Ukraine on a map, but Gogol Bordello’s long-standing identity as New York’s passionate and vibrant immigrant-led protest band makes them the perfect soundtrack to the drummers keeping ICE agents awake all night.

Gogol Bordello remain exhausting in the best way, with drums that crack with punk aggression and violin that tugs fiercely at the heartstrings played with devotional conviction. There are flashes of dub and spaghetti western grandeur, all feeding the same core message of solidarity in sweaty performance. Solidarity (Nick Launay Mix) closes the album with a huge, slow tribute to Ukraine that’s epic and heartfelt, and the entire journey is celebratory, furious, thoughtful, and unashamedly political. The band haven’t changed, but they’re now standing squarely at the centre of modern rock’s political conversation rather than performing a strange festival spectacle on the fringes.

Gogol Bordello haven’t changed their message or their sound, and they now deserve the biggest stages available. Hütz’s thesis has always been that Eastern European traditions operate differently, capable of holding philosophy, tragedy, absurdity, death, politics and celebration in the same sentence. This richness of thought runs straight through the album, acknowledging that the world is confusing and violent, but dancing with a beautiful confidence. The band’s core beliefs of distrust in power, love of human contact, and music as communal celebration refuse to shift even as the sky falls, with a stubborn conviction that’s anchored outside of reactive trends. They’ve always believed what they believe, and the world is now loud and horrible enough that their eccentric worldview makes complete sense.

The folk carnival unfolds at full volume sounding like a street procession packed with dense and layered philosophical ideas as the record bottles their live chaos with very little subtlety and restraint, sounding like a carnival of youthful energy that defiantly refuses to mellow even as the band become veterans. Gogol Bordello are refusing to coast or tour on nostalgia, and are instead making a racket in the face of the oligarchs, billionaires and autocrats that are wrecking the planet, and inviting you to dance along.

We Mean It, Man! is explosive and exuberant on the surface, but it’s born of strife, vulnerability and reflection. Eugene Hütz delivers his thoughts like an authoritative philosopher dressed as a circus ringleader, someone who’s stared directly at the chaos long enough to understand it. The album sounds like a riotous festival with songs that are concise, direct, and purposeful, standing as a statement of conviction that feels much deeper than their breakthrough now that the frivolity has faded.