“I’D rather bow out with no deal, than be first in line for a free meal,” sneers LaFontaines frontman Kerr Okan on the outro to Class opener ‘SLOW ELVIS’ in a line that could serve as a dictum not just for the albums mission statement, but The LaFontaines entire career thus far. Regularly labelled Scotland’s most eminent “party band”, it’s a tag that has begun to feel like a cliché at best and a disservice at worst as the Motherwell five piece have risen from the Sauchiehall Street pub circuit to opening this year’s T in the Park Main Stage, and all without the backing of any major label.

Beyond the tabloid tales lies a band who don’t define themselves by how much they can drink and piss James Bond off on a night out, but one who have ploughed out their furrow through a mixture of hard-work and dedication. As Okan recently said of Class, “We’ve spent the past three to four years leading up to this point. A load of pain and struggle have went into these songs, but underlying throughout all of the writing, is some real grit and determination.”

The live circuit is where The LaFontaines made their name and although they still manage to transplant the dynamism and vim of their set, Class’ taut grooves and airtight arrangements see that it doesn’t get carried away with itself. Long-term fan favourite ‘UNDER THE STORM’ pits bassist John Gerrard’s fretful vocal up against maracas and handclap percussion, only for it to all come shattering down in the post chorus blitzkrieg of distorted downstrokes and clattering drums – its claim for the crown of the albums most raucous track only challenged by the appropriately titled ‘KING’ and its monolithic riff which sounds purpose made for tearing through a festival main stage sound system. Less visceral and more melody driven is the title track, which sees Okan line up his targets and hit them square on (“if money runs dry you can always call dad and tell him cough up”), as is ‘All She Knows’, the album’s tenderest song with its crystalline arpeggios and plaintive chorus.

Forthcoming single ‘Junior Dragon’ sees choppy, interlocking guitars spark and splinter as Okan goes all in with a breakneck flow, spitting out rhymes like a series of jabs from a boxing heavyweight. ‘ALL GONE’, a super-slick slice of power pop, comes replete with an earworm of a chorus hook (“you had it all and now it’s all gone, all gone”) and sing-along woah oh’s, while ‘PAPERCHASE’ – the band’s first single ode to workplace ennui – has been renovated with subtle electronic flourishes and reworked drums. Closing out the album is its most grandly ambitious song, ‘PULL ME BACK’, a piano driven ballad which is demonstrative of the bands ever-expanding sonic palette.

Okan spoke of the pain and struggle behind the journey of Class, yet without such travails it’s hard to imagine the album packing the impact that it does. Musically as well as lyrically, Class bristles with an attitude and bite which isn’t borne out of spite, but rather a self-awareness and pride of the fact they’ve reached this point and done so entirely on their own terms. Trying to categorise The Lafontaines has always proved a futile task, and while the album’s combination of elements as disparate as rap, rock, pop and electro might prove too much for some, never at any point does it feel incoherent. “We started off locally, and I plan to depict it globally” raps Okan at one point. If Class is any indication, they’re on the right track in doing so.