As the spirit of the beehive front man Zack Schwartz puts it, Hypnic Jerks sounds like the state between wakefulness and sleep – The Philly quintet’s third full length is named after the involuntary muscle spasms that can happen right as someone begins dozing off , a perfect feeling to compare the album’s drowsy-yet- restless character to.

Unlike the spiraling momentum of the band’s sophomore LP, pleasure suck, the spirit of the beehive takes a more grounded approach here, though the ground it’s standing on is equally otherworldly.

Dreamy is a fitting adjective, but the ten tracks on Hypnic Jerks never fully slip into the peaceful character of dream-pop.

Hypnic Jerks has the quality of an indescribable dream fading from memory as you slowly begin to regain consciousness.

Its warped guitar tones, transcendental synths and smattering of eerie audio samples conjure this purgatorial space between reverie and reality.

It’s an arena where the songs unexpectedly contort themselves and take on different textures, morphing in and out of one another.

Once the celestial harmonies, balmy keys and creeping false climax of album closer it’s gonna find you roll past, it’s clear that the spirit of the beehive has secured a seat at this decade’s table of musical visionaries.