Album Of The Week: Converge All We Love We Leave Behind

This week is a big one for new albums, especially if you like the sounds that electric guitars make when they're turned up loud. I'm not as besotted with Tame Impala's new Lonerism as a lot of people seem to be, but the album does a nice job turning '70s bongwater-psych into a prettily fractal internal sort of thing; it sounded really nice while I was staring at rolling hills through a train window yesterday morning. Meanwhile, Ty Segall's new Twins continues that dude's ridiculous run, packing car-radio melodies and garage-rock wallop together with serious panache. Trash Talk have made a quasi-major label leap with their 119, finding a new depth and expansiveness in their pummel without making it any less intense. These are all worthy contenders, but my favorite album of the week is the one from the hardcore godfathers, two decades deep into a pioneering career, who have somehow found a way to remain as vital and ferocious as ever. At this point, I'm fairly certain that they're vampires.