Horus

The Bloomington, IN, neo-psychedelic folk/indie rock collective Impossible Shapes have crafted a dark and whimsical Pagan and pseudo-Christian/Egyptian imagery-laden oddity of a record that somehow manages to balance the British folk meanderings of bands like Pentangle and Forest with the volatile energy of the late-'70s proto-punk movement. Horus, their second release for Secretly Canadian and fifth overall, is a celebration of the veiled tinderbox of weirdness that is the American Midwest. Singer/songwriter/guitarist Chris Barth is the kind of misfit mystic that can deliver a line like "Lighting a candle to Pan/Smoking at night in the van" without the slightest bit of irony, and his imagery-heavy yet strangely simple lyricism is more upfront here than on last year's significantly louder We Like It Wild. That's not to say that the band is incapable of ferocity — the glorious "Survival" is the best Velvet Underground song never made — but the Impossible Shapes are not reverential two-chord revivalists; rather they are accomplished musicians who are just as comfortable championing jazzy, Bert Jansch-influenced ballads ("The Princess") as they are Television-infused angst rock. Horus isn't for everybody, but fans of the Violent Femmes, Incredible String Band, Danielson Famile, and Faun Fables will find much to love here.