This New York group doesn't really care to stick to a sound. It calls itself a rock band, though it traffics in much of the creativity and indulgent sound of the 90s alt scene. Archers of Loaf is an easy callback, though the piano-led songs here tend to veer into noise quicker. That is, the songs here come in all tempos and dynamics, but they generally deteriorate as they progress.

Nevada Nevada Past Life (Rock Your Head)

But not in a deconstructive way. Rather, just about everything that surrounds the piano doesn't quite fit together. And as each song builds, those incongruities clash more and more. And while another obvious reference is the Three Mile Pilot/Black Heat Procession conglomeration, there's a lot more concentrated chaos going on.

The sound is oh-so-analog and utterly glorious. Nevada Nevada doesn't write anthems, and I have a feeling that the band would deface any anthem that came its way. The buzzy blur is arresting, but it doesn't make for an easy listening. The depth of sound (and the way all the pieces smash into each other) is striking. It's as if the band creates a black hole when it starts playing. Anything resembling a trope remains outside the event horizon.

A blistering and bewildering set. Mind you, I think the band has captured exactly what it wanted to capture, but what's here is solely for those who like carefully destroyed songs played with abandon. I'm happy to claim my place in that group, and I'll be listening to this a few more dozen times. The mainstream sucks, and Nevada Nevada has made certain that it has charted a path in the opposite direction. That's my kind of band.

Jon Worley