It’s only April, so don’t get exhausted on that neo garage-punk-psych Neapolitan mania just yet because another combo flavor emerges into the fledgling genre (or elderly depending upon the perspective) with the debut LP from Brooklyn’s Golden Triangle. Their previous output, a very loud EP on Mexican Summer, was restless and swelled with panic, spotlighting slurries of racket and piercing girl-pop vocals. Not that Double Jointer fails to illuminate sweaty rooms packed with fuliginous silhouettes, but now those bodies are tossed about, rarely discernible from the monstrous genre amalgamation. And although the lyrics are a little easier to discern (some of them are real bleak), the atmosphere is still pummeled by crushing waves, where just as one session of pounding concludes a more powerful collection comes surging along and thrashes at a level elevated aiming toward the end of the song.

The strut that commences (and follows throughout all eleven tracks) fully discloses the fuzzy speculation that every song seeks to bounce the festivities into frenzy and hysteria. First clue is the opener called “Cinco De Mayo,” and regardless of historical significance the day has certainly transformed into the Hispanic version St. Patrick’s Day and just another excuse to trip the light fantastic.

Vague combinations of words shape futile phrases to describe their sound, such as so-cal pop twisted with surf punk, or pop disguised in scuzz, or dilapidated mall soundtrack, or what about spooky rock steady; yet Golden Triangle surpasses this ongoing cosmic occurrence aligning such a plethora (yeah that much) of bands searching lost time and rejoicing memories of things punk, garage, and surf laced with a psychedelic onslaught inviting and promising a rowdy spirit live, and all the while still accommodating toward the appropriate mood suggested by the album’s title Double Jointer, the band’s personal prescription of recommended dosage.