Aided by Alex Newport's clean, confident production, this record crams 23 songs into just around the same amount of minutes -- piling unpredictable, split-second changes, blasts of 2-second-long space-riffs, and lupine screams onto spazzed-out keyboards that sound totally inhuman and strangely organic. It's nervy and sinuous and, above all else, uncomfortably apocalyptic -- which makes even more sense now, considering the temper of the times when it was recorded. Welcome to the beginning of the end. Here's your soundtrack.