Although the purported influences that converged to give rise to this saucy, bar-chord-loving, all-girl pop-punk juggernaut are all over the place (King Crimson, David Bowie, Primus?), Apple Betty remain a band of singular focus. Whether writing about the things that men don’t do (“No Toilet Paper on the Roll”), involuntarily do (“Sweatpant Boner”), or do do (“I Saw a Crime”), these girls stay on message: men suck, but we kind of need them.