Meatbodies

From the very first strains Meatbodies’ new album, the band is awash in the foam and fumes of the ‘90s — muscular riffs lost in a haze of shoegaze and dry ice. The album serves as a kind of inverse to their last, an admittedly cartoonish version of Meatbodies’ sound that never quite sticks to the ribs. With 333 out of their system, the band embarked on the heavier and decidedly headier bounds of Flora Ocean Tiger Bloom. The record is streaked with darker themes — depression, escapism, hedonism — and it hides them among the explosive neon seethe of the album’s production. It’s a double disc dosage of psychedelic pop that plays with the past in fun ways.

The band chews on a few obvious touchstones, rifling through the glam flash of Smashing Pumpkins and the towering sonics of MBV, but it’s fun to see them also roll in a kind of Janes-ish delivery on songs like “Billow” and “Move” that lets the vocals swing from the rafters like Farrell in his prime. The rest of the shoegaze menagerie gets a good workout in the influence list as well, injecting rhythm like Ride, angst like Adorable, and the earnest heart of Drop Nineteens. The formula works, and it’s a ballsy move to go for the double gatefold dose these days, but Meatbodies soak up every inch, revealing in some room to move. For all it’s nostalgic attributes, the record feels like a proper follow-up to Alice, letting that record’s metal itch get soothed in the sonic sauna. Ubovich took his time separating his legacy from ‘Segall touring member’ to proper frontman, but Flora Ocean Tiger Bloom feels like a defining statement in all the best ways.