If you've ever seen Thee Oh Sees live, you have seen some shit. John Dwyer's band of psych-garage hooligans has an ever-revolving lineup, but whoever might be playing alongside him, they've got one of the most dependably fired-up shows in all of indie rock. Dwyer -- splattered with tattoos, frequently shirtless, his guitar hiked up uncomfortably high on his chest -- plays hammerhead guitar hero, his fuzzed-up riffs transitioning into spiraling solos while your mind races to keep up. Meanwhile, his band keeps him anchored with an unrelenting low-end pummel. I've never known them to dawdle over half-baked stage patter or to tune up instruments between songs or to display anything even loosely resembling pretension. Instead, their shows are rave-ups, in the Yardbirds sense of the word -- drunken, happy dance-parties set to dizzy, fun battering-ram guitar rock. But while Thee Oh Sees keep cranking out new music -- dropping an album, breaking up, getting back together, and then dropping another album in the time that most bands are still finishing up their touring cycle behind a single LP -- they generally don't capture that sense of giddy fun on record. Dwyer's mind is too restless, and he likes to play around with starry-eyed, experimental psychedelia that's considerably less fun when heard at home and not in the company of sweaty strangers. But the new album, A Weird Exits -- and no, that title doesn't look right, but just go with it -- might be the moment where they've figured it out.