There's an overwhelming, all-pervading anxiety to Ought, the young Montreal band, that goes beyond the band's actual music. This is a band born of anxiety. Its four members -- three from different parts of the U.S., one from Australia -- came together a few years ago, when they were all studying at McGill University and all taking part in a movement to protest against tuition hikes. So: Four kids, basically, probably not sure what they're going to do with their lives once they leave this bubble of an institution, and just as unsure how they'll pay down the debt that they're currently racking up. That's not exactly an uncommon state of being -- chances are good that you've experienced it, or that you're experiencing it now -- but thinking about it is enough to tighten up your stomach muscles. And while the band's lyrics are elliptical enough that I don't think they spend any of Sun Coming Down, their deeply impressive second album, speaking directly about that state, the tension still seeps through into every aspect of the music. When the band gets going, frontman Tim Darcy's guitars become a frantic bilious ball of energy, an erratic needle of treble. And the guitar isn't the only source of discordance; sometimes, it seems to be locked into a furious, urgent non-verbal conversation with Matt May's keyboards and Tim Keen's violin, each of them freaking out in some private-but-communal way while the band's locked-in rhythm section pushes everything relentlessly forward. Play this music loud enough, and it can have an almost physical effect, making jaws clench and tendons go taut.