This lost child of Andy Warhol’s Factory pours his heart and soul into it. “Say Goodbye Before You Leave” is about lost talent Jay Reatard. “When You’re Gone” is about his gone poppa. “Hairdresser Blues” is about having to give yourself all day long to clients who want to talk your face off about their lives, when your life might be in shambles as well. Taking a bold step forward with your music is always a difficult thing to do, like rolling the dice when you know there are people hiding in the rafters waiting to watch you fail.

There’s something both exciting and familiar about this album’s sound, which hearkens to that period in the 80s where George Clinton and Zapp were making way for Prince, albeit with backward-masked sounding guitars and plenty of leftover hair metal vibe. This is the rock of party vans and melted 8-tracks.

Arrica brings powerful personae to the work as well with snippets of Patti Smith, Fiest, Catpower, Karen Carpenter and the range to do much more. It is Indie Rock by strict definition, but she’s sanded off the edges and set the whole show in a 1970′s Topanga Canyon dream. The music has a perspective and while she nods to different styles Americana, Pop, and Indie Rock…she’s always coming from her place. Let Alone Sea isn’t flawless certainly, but the misses are minor.

For fans of noise, you can’t go wrong with “Lost in the Murk,” which has squeaky hinge noises straight out of David Tudor’s “Rainforest” backed up against what sounds like someone breathing angrily. This may not be your cup of tea, but the emperor does wear clothes.

Corridor’s music is dense, in a good way, full of virtuosic instrumentation that is played deliberately dark. This is not lightweight pop. He’s the only cellist in rock and roll whose performances are worthy of playing air cello to.

It sounds like King Crimson.

At its core the album’s pointy-toed shoes toe the garage rock line, like on the track “The End of the Line,” which starts with Walker laying down some particularly stellar guitar work over a rhythmic intro, and the aptly named party tune “Let’s Get Wrecked.” On other tracks however, the quartet creates a sound distinctly their own—and it’s all about Laurenne playing those amazing tones on the Farfisa organ.

Kone, an L.A. based producer who recently signed on with Alpha Pup, describes his music as “psychedelic gangster funk.” Sample heavy, with each song an ever-layering progression based around snippets of running male commentary about scientific philosophy (possibly by or about Ludwig Wittgenstein), The Tractatus is like a shopping cart of sounds, and each track throws a new aisle’s worth of magic into the basket.

A member of OJO, head-mammal Chris Avitabile has been creating piecey “soundtrack-like” jams like these since 2006, after he returned inspired from his own travels to put his odd collection of instruments and records to use. Travel Themes, his third such labors of love and experimentation under the Collapsible Mammals banner, is a perfectly titled release, evoking exotic journeys, mutation, and mechanical whirring.

Somehow the Aggrolites are of that Warped world, and yet they have successfully fought its worst urges and drained all the suck out, leaving behind a “dirty reggae” sound that is highly pure, largely instrumental, organ-driven, and at times even beautiful. Listening to this album is like watching the female skinheads of This Is England walking down the street in their braces and boots.