Slipping constantly and conspicuously into techno glitches, turntable skips, off-balance piano runs, faux-jazz'n'disco breaks and cartoon tunelets, these Shreveport hipsters try hard to subvert their grindcore garbage disposal. So most tracks feel more like montages than songs; single "Karate Nipples" is probably the pump-up-the-volume pinnacle of those. Krysta Cameron's frequent Bjork-to-Kate Bush-to-Evanescence emoting parts arise more naturally from the moshing noise-spew -- even when electronically manipulated into hazy lounge-torch trip-hop in "This Head Music Makes My Eyes Rain."