For years, the dudes in the prog-psych-pop band Cinnamon Aluminum dosed our Buffalo eardrums with some seriously lysergic electro-jungle-rock. They formed around 2009 as, for lack of a better categorization, a dismissible jam band. So we sorta dismissed them. I caught back up with the group in 2011 at a super-weird-vibe art show in the Soundlab basement; they'd ditched the trite goofy jam BS and become a brain-scraping, goofy, synthed-out sound machine. And since then, they've only continued to push the boundaries of art-pop to develop a unique and hard-to-categorize style that's both dark and fun, challenging and accessible (we even invited them to perform at our anniversary party earlier this year, which is about as not-dismissive as we can get).

Or rather, they USED TO. With two members relocating out the the area, the group suddenly disbanded last month. But as a form of exit interview, they just released a final EP on Bandcamp, titled Guys, Warlords, Girls. And jeez louise is it decent! Rather than poop out an accumulation of random unreleased tracks, the trio has lovingly crafted a serious piece that flows seamlessly through bizarre genres and moods throughout its five-track duration, like a well-controlled CIA acid experiment. And even though it gets goofy and raunchy and weird, as you could expect from a goofy, raunchy, weird band, the EP definitely comes across as very serious.

It feels sorta like the opening track (“Lharnax Clorblish”) is Cinnamon Aluminum's way of saying, “Yeah, haha, we were totally kidding about all that jam BS, we are into Zappa, not Phish, haha.” With a dreamy, guitarpop ringout, and blasé chant lyrics (“Now you're on your own, all alone/ when you go to shows, standing in the corner playing with your fucking phone/ man, do that at home...”), it sets a tone of disillusionment, detachment, and signals a point of departure to whatever weird places the band will be bringing you over the next 21-ish minutes.

“Giant Slor” follows, and is downright the meanest, darkest thing I've heard the group play. The bassline teases at some super-minor, Locrian modes for a bit, then when it drops and meets up with some seething organ and driving drums, it sounds like the evil soundtrack to that moment you get to Hell and are all like, “Holy shit, this place is SKETCHY. I should have prayed more!” You can still dance to it, but you'd def be kicking up some positive vibes for your boy Satan if you did.

“Epic of Gilgamesh” and “Girls in Disguise” display more of the Cinnamon Aluminum we are used to. There are toungue-in-cheek psychobabble lyrics, funky hooks, and a few stylistic trapdoors here and there for good measure. This section of the record is where you'll be getting something weird and random stuck in your goofy head.

GWG closes with “Accept The Scepter,” an anthemic 80s synthpop supergroup-esque foray (think M or Gary Numan, or Human League before they hired the girls), that opens up into a jazzy, prog sax/bass rockout close, and lets you get off the ride on a light, funky plane.

If you were into this band, or even if you slept on them, it would behoove you greatly to give GWG an open ear. (They've also released videos for a few of the songs.) As a fanboy, the record makes me wish, even more, that this band was still around. But it is such a perfect denouement for Buffalo's patron saints of legit psychedelic music; a band like Cinnamon Aluminum couldn't've asked for a better epitaph.