Be honest, when was the last time an innovative, exciting new band name-dropped Radiohead or Sigur Rós as an influence? Their discographies remain almost entirely unimpeachable, but by a certain point, their names became a too-common signifier of superficial aesthetics meant to obscure anodyne alt-rock: wraithlike falsetto, orchestral bombast, middlebrow electronic touches. In other words, the sort of thing Cloud Castle Lake eagerly provide during the first 45 seconds or so of "Sync."-=-=-=-

But at the exact point you'd think, "I've heard this before," bongos start to bubble and brows furrow—hmmm. And rather than heralding a regal procession, the horns erupt into an unanticipated merger of earthly funk and otherworldly vocals, like if Kings of Limbs or Atoms for Peace could actually groove. Cloud Castle Lake feel no need to disturb this groove for the next five minutes, pushing Brendan William Jenkinson's vocals just to see how high they can go before "Sync" dissipates like a spent firework. So yes, it is influenced by Radiohead. But Cloud Castle Lake are the extremely rare case where a band incorporates not just the vocals and the rhythmic vibrancy, but also the pioneering spirit.