Massive pedalled-out blasts of sound tied to delicate riffs. Echo & the Bunnymen songs played by Wilco. Biscuits swimming in gravy. George Clooney’s salt and pepper beard. LP3 is a rare achievement: It doesn’t fail at being anything. It’s a collision of influences, not a contrived mixture of them. That sounds like marketing speak, but take a second to think about it. You could say this record is Tom Petty meets Spiritualized or you could say it’s Hot Snakes doing Swans, and you’d be right in both cases. It’s music from men who listen to music.

Compare the unapologetic rock swell of album-opener ‘Wales’ to the understated lyrics-first approach to the next track, ‘Separate Songs’. Clearly the same band, but exercising different ghosts on each song. That’s what LP3 provides. A spectrum broad enough for the swaying drunk at the show and the introspective headphone commuter. Wistful; hopeful; direct; coy; bombastic; pensive. It’s a human experience, or at least a French film.

The band chose to return to Miner Street Studio and long-time friend/collaborator Jon Low for the recording of LP3. It was a good choice. This is the band’s best-sounding record. Every instrument is bigger on this album than on previous efforts. The vocals often puncture quiet moments to such perfect, unnerving effect that you could believe its happening in your head. The trust Low and the band has been building over the years is absolute these days and the result is a record that fills a room even when coming out of laptop speakers. — Patrick Kindlon (Self Defense Family)