I've been listening to Cinnamon Aluminum for a while now, but I'm still not quite sure whether they're an easy group to write about, or a difficult one. The sci-fi, synthy, tripped-out trio has been kicking around the Buffalo scene for a couple years now, playing a strange blend of psychedelic acid-jazz trance. And their latest release, We Ate The Wrong Crab Spirit, released a couple weeks back on Level 4 Activated, could simply be labeled “eccentric”. But there are way too many diverging and converging corridors of sound and experimentation to be so allzu-dismissive.

Crab Spirit is the follow-up to the band's 2010 debut, Mad Monty in the 8^th Dimension of Nine, a 40-minute space opera that told the narrative of a fighter pilot traveling through space in the style of a old-timey radio drama – a precedent as difficult to transcend as it sounds. But they do just that here, elaborating on their synthy-jungle-trance sound while incorporating richer textures and more nuanced song-writing. The songs turn on a dime. Instruments and samples pop in and out when you least expect them. Cinnamon Aluminum will hit a groove on a chorus or instrument break, but then blasts off to a distant stylistic galaxy before the section plays itself out. And if there's an underlying concept or storyline like that of Monty's adventures among the Bug People, it's buried in schizoid word salad.

The record opens with a sparse, warm arp on “New Couch,” before the band jumps in with one of their Animal Collective-esque, crowded-soundplane chant refrains. This, then, twists around into a double time saxophone break that sounds like The Shuffle Demons on (more) drugs, and the hallucinogenic journey of Crab Spirit is officially underway. And though the band has worked some older songs (I'm pretty sure they've been playing songs like “Ma Cyberface” and “Poppin' Squirrels” live for a while now), all of the material is well-worked into a cohesive, linear listening experience.

One of the things Cinnamon Aluminum do well is hyper-pop: glistening surfaces of catchy, Id-Funk beats and overly-candied melodies. “When I Was You,” for instance, sounds like what would happen if Purple Rain was released as an N64 game. As well as: the crowded-soundplane chants, which are at their thickest on “Forest of Leisure” (where the refrain of “I'm tripping/you're tripping” could easily lead to some nightmare scenarios for unwary listeners). There are also found-sound samples interspersed like a lost Books record, contributing nicely to the overall pacing.

The album ends with the gentle synth swarm of “Eighteen Four (The Ending of a Robot's Dream),” a lullaby for the listener's overworked aural nerves. Juxtaposed with the preceding tracks, it's quite a relaxing come down. And that's the only real drawback I can find with Crab Spirit; that it might just be too much. With so many drastic changes and intense oscillations of genre, it can get overwhelming; it's difficult to have playing in the background if you're even remotely trying to focus on anything else. But with an adventurous band like Cinnamon Aluminum, you sort of have to expect to buy the ticket and take the ride. Don't you.

Grade: A-