The great part about discovery is that there’s no expiration date. It’s the reason why ace reissue labels like Numero and Superior Vaiduct exist and why there are teenagers in 2015 walking around wearing Led Zeppelin and Ramones t-shirts. (It’s also because said t-shirts are sold fairly cheaply at Target.) It feels safe to assume that everything will eventually come back around, as is the case with Chavez. After releasing two full-lengths in 1995 and ‘96 the band just faded away. As it turns out, they didn’t ever officially break-up. Nevertheless, in their absence they’ve gained increased interest, resulting in a well-received boxset, Better Days Will Haunt You, and the occasional return to the concert stage. What hasn’t happened, however, is a return to the studio. Until that time, the fires of discovery will have to be stoked by the reissuing of the band’s two studio albums, Gone Glimmering and Ride the Fader, on vinyl by Matador.

Because Chavez’s output was relatively modest and the odds and sods were already covered by the boxset, these reissues are simply to put the albums back into print. As a result, there’s no bonus stuff or treatment. And while this year does mark the 20th anniversary of Gone Glimmering, nothing about this release seems to mark that occasion.

Listening back to the records seems to answer the question of why so many music writers had to figure out how to properly use and overuse the word “angular” when talking about guitars. Gone Glimmering reveals the band playing hard and loud, but not necessarily overly aggressive. It hits like a wave of sound, but everything in the attack is clean and distinct. The songs are catchy, but you’d be hard pressed to pull out any kind of hook. Similarly, Chavez is occasionally noodlely and intricate, yet without overdoing it. There’s a nonchalant approach that anchors everything from being just too much.

The follow-up, Ride the Fader, is pretty much a direct sequel—not that surprising as it came out the following year—but there are some twists to the formula. There are more slow songs and even the occasional vocal harmony. The songs themselves seem to take time to breathe more. If the previous album was about the attack, Ride the Fader isn’t afraid to take a moment to look around before diving back in. What’s amazing in looking back on these albums is how they do so much in a relatively short amount of time, with each musical idea crystallizing quickly. It’s strange to find out that the primary reason for the soft close was the feeling that people were disinterested in the band. These reissues should hopefully do something to dissuade that notion.