Very few of the bands that emerged during the third wave ska revival of the early 1990s are still standing, let alone still producing worthwhile records. That the Slackers have maintained a steady (though not exactly prolific) schedule of releases over the past 18 years is a tribute to their rare ability to create timeless music in an archaic genre, as well as to their simple stubbornness. Self Medication is perhaps their strongest album yet, one that spends relatively little time in ska mode; at this point in their development, the Slackers’ genre of choice is rocksteady, the transitional musical style that emerged in Jamaica in the late ’60s, after ska had faded but before reggae was fully formed. The album’s theme song (and maybe the band’s) is the brilliant “Don’t Forget the Streets,” a defiant declaration of purpose and determination (“We still stick together/We still get along”). But its strongest entries are some of its strangest, such as “Stars” (with its strong evocation of Paul Simon’s “St. Judy’s Comet”), the lovely and Latin-flavored ska tune “Sing Your Song,” and the bizarre “Walkin’ with Myself,” which starts out with a wheezy, Tom Waits-ish accordion part before relaxing into a loping rocksteady beat. The album’s low point is its strangest song, however, a weird Elvis Presley parody with fake crowd noises, titled “Don’t Have To.” Great album overall. – Rick Anderson