There is an undercurrent of excitement and vibrancy in the rampant darkness of What Moon Things, a howling well-of-souls desperation that is balanced by a tumultuous melodicism. WMT’s eponymous full-length debut from last year is a droning, buzzing, shimmery delight, a careening blend of Joy Division’s downcast theater of despair to Modest Mouse’s adrenalized carnival of the blissfully damned. The truly exciting thing about What Moon Things is the realization that, if the band can sound this controllably unhinged in the studio, its live sets must shriek like the air-raid sirens for hell’s bomb shelters. And yet there is nuance and artistry within What Moon Things’ volume and shadows, and the tension that crackles and sparks between those two extremes is the band’s power source.

YOU’LL DIG IT IF YOU DIG: Isaac Brock starts a fan club for Ians Curtis and McCullouch, Robert Smith and Paul Westerberg. (BB)