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A journalist once made a prediction about Rooftop Vigilantes: "In a few years, they'll make big waves, sign to a major label and then precipitously decline." Looks like he might have been at least partially correct. The Lawrence, Kansas-based act's latest album, Carrot Atlas, features enough hipster posturing and catchy choruses to ensure that a number of majors will be champing at the bit to chew them up and then, possibly, spit them out. Fortunately, the group's boozy brand of drunken garage rock defiantly shows the critics they are far too stubborn to care one way or another.