I’ve always had a bit of trouble placing bands in the shoegaze or drone genres of the 1980s, but the category immediately came to mind when I heard opening track “It Is Nothing” from Exploding Head, the sophomore album of A Place To Bury Strangers. The group is arguably New York’s loudest band, and the media surrounding Exploding Head has added merit to the claim. I squeezed out my first listen in the not-so-comforting confines of fellow music critics, and needless to say, we all had mixed reviews. 

The one consistency I can pen is that A Place To Bury Strangers is in every way unique. The readers of EasternSurf.com will understand the comparison between two elements of surf and music I have truly come to respect. I feel a true connection to artists of both realms that take a hands-on approach to their respective (and sometimes overlapping) crafts. In the case of APTBS, this approach manifests itself as a guitar pedal, not a surfboard. Oliver Ackermann, the trio’s frontman and owner of Death By Audio, has designed foot tools for the likes of U2, TV On The Radio, and, least surprisingly, My Bloody Valentine.  Ackermann spared no expense with his own equipment, saying, “Some of our pedals even have a setting that will blow up your amp. And that’s also the state of new and exciting music. It’s on the edge.” Brilliant.

Exploding Head is garnished with notes of elevated production. Andy Smith, who has worked with David Bowie and Paul Simon, blessed these three beasts of pounding noise by sprinkling their ear-surrendering onslaught of sonic power with a touch of elegance. A Place To Bury Strangers’ touring resume includes opening slots for Nine Inch Nails, MGMT, and Black Rebel Motorcycle Club. All in all, Exploding Head functions as a pumping in-between, landing somewhere afield of garage lo-fi, Detroit street riots, and 24 hours in The Factory scene of 1983 London. By Will Tunstall

Alan Palomo, the real name of the artist known as VEGA, is perhaps one of the music industry’s most innovative 21-year-old renaissance men to hit the scene in a very long time. His newest appearance under the moniker Neon Indian earns a lot of comparisons to mega-psych ensembles that embrace the acid thrills of the 8-bit Nintendo generation and wear purple Surfstyle jackets with fanny packs. Only Palomo’s budget is operating in the same years as his recording ethos, proving to be a benefit for Neon Indian and their easy, unforced sound. What I like about Neon Indian is that it doesn’t demand me to dance, but rather encourages me. Letting one (or seven) hits of LSD ever so gradually take hold is the essence of Psychic Chasms.   

“Deadbeat Summer” and “Terminally Chill” both accurately exemplify the ‘90s-baby nature of Palomo’s multimedia project, and the sampled sporadic space-race recording will send a gorging shot of nostalgia through anyone with an ear raised on Kraftwerk. I haven’t been outside in a while, but already I expect to hear the sounds of Psychic Chasms blasting from every Range Rover full of co-eds in the neighborhood. Unfortunately, the visual backing that provides the second half of Neon Indian, a true-to-form opiate-induced composition by Alicia Scardetta, probably won’t be supported by the Range Rover media package.

If Palomo’s Neon Indian project carries through, Psychic Chasms is sure to go down in the library of simple yet sweaty dance-throbbing greats. Hopefully the combined genius of Palomo and Scardetta won’t explode into a nuclear acid fall-out. Even if, we still have this album and a promise from Palomo that further releases are on the way. By Will Tunstall

Fool’s gold is defined as an iron sulfide with a metallic luster and brass-yellow hue that gets its name because of its resemblance to gold. Yet Los Angeles world music collective Fool’s Gold is something much more authentic: a decidedly American group that pays serious homage to African music. A Jewish-inspired ensemble that mixes avant-garde classicism and danceable indie rock with ease. Most importantly, considering the recent glut of polyrhythm-obsessed bands following in Vampire Weekend’s boat-shoe-bedecked footsteps, Fool’s Gold proves that feel-good multi-culturalism can be taken seriously.

So don’t expect three-minute ruminations on Cape Cod summer vacations here. Vocalist/bassist Luke Top alternates between crooning in Hebrew and English; Brazilian visual artists and Argentinean pop stars play everything from Djembe drums and Gankogui bells to goat-toe rattles and Axatse shell gourds; and not a single song on Fool’s Gold comes in under four and a half minutes. Opener “Surprise Hotel” has a woozy Mediterranean feel, full of twinkling guitar lines and chanted yearning choruses that define the Fool’s Gold aesthetic well. “Nadine” is a somber horn-led funeral march straight from the streets of Tel Aviv, and the handclap dirge “Ha Dvash” reaches back to rustic classic rock roots, featuring swirling, nearly psychedelic guitar solos.

The melting-pot vibe remains: “The World Is All There Is” continues the breathy communal chanting so common on Fool’s Gold, while “Poseidon” and “Yam Lo Moschech” are hipster updates of Hebrew classics. “Night Dancing” builds on a feverish instrumental pace that would certainly translate well into a live Fool’s Gold setting, while album closer “Momentary Shelter” almost borders on blippy electronica territory. World music bands everywhere should take notice: simple Afro rhythms aren’t gonna cut it anymore. If you want to succeed creatively like Fool’s Gold, you might have to sprinkle in a few other regional influences, as well. By Nick McGregor