Don’t let the bunny bear fool you; this album was not meant for children. Released last week by Los Angeles-based trio Mini Mansions, the album (now available on iTunes) is a neat and tidy 12 song magnum opus in the form of an eponymous sophomore album. Upon first listen, I believed Mini Mansions to be a delightful dream pop band lightly dipped in psychedelia. But after the third and fourth listen, I realized that the album was just as dark and brooding as it was bright and fanciful. In only twelve tracks, Mini Mansions manages to both illuminate our brightest wishes and coax forth our darkest demons for study. They whisper in our ears with their intoxicating blend of playful disdain and stubborn complacency, daring us to be as bold as they are. And they are quite bold: after all, the purpose of music is to both reflect and provoke all that makes us human, and this album is the epitome of humanistic. It’s also an excellent example for burgeoning musicians pondering the difference between a solid collection of songs and a meticulously planned and executed piece of art. For starters, there are no clunkers on this album, no songs that you immediately skip or barely make it halfway through before deciding that the second half isn’t at all an improvement on the first. No; it was actually hard for me to choose my favorite song, a pleasant (and infrequent) problem to have. The plucky trio of Tyler Parkford, Zach Dawes, and Michael Shuman (Queens of the Stone Age bassist) manage to effortlessly sound like The Beatles without seeming like an understaffed and watered-down imitation of the Fab Four. With plenty of nods to Led Zeppelin, The Beach Boys, and Pink Floyd thrown in almost as an afterthought, Mini Mansions somehow manage to carve their own distinct sound with the same materials as some of the greats. They somehow manage to create entire worlds within a mere three minutes of song, prompting us to beg for more with the demise of every creation.

Mini Mansions is one of those incredibly complex and yet very flexible albums that you can devote your entire attention to, greedily devouring equal helpings of prophetic and bizarre phrases. I definitely raised my eyebrows at the clever usage of the words ‘fond’ and ‘fondle’ on the delightfully dark ‘Girls’, and I liked knowing that I could still be surprised-bordering-on-shocked by a lyrical turn of phrase. But even if you’re not actively listening for the lyrics, you can turn this album on in the background and forget about it for a little while, only to be pulled out of reverie by a sudden whimsical tempo change or musical musing that sounds familiar and yet still fresh. The album starts off with ‘Vignette No.1′, a slow and almost mechanical beat marching on towards infiniti beneath a bawdy carnival tune that gives you a taste of their harmonizing expertise. The second track ‘The Room Outside’ is like being shaken awake from the harmless daydream to find reality much more exciting, and the disorientation not at all unpleasant. ‘The Room Outside’ is a rollicking piano rock ballad that sounds like what would happen if Spoon had been invited to collaborate on The White Album, and the effect is extremely alluring. It’s like Mini Mansions is inviting us to play in their newly created universe, only to arrive and find that we’d mistaken their playfulness for naiveté. I listened to ‘Monk’ on repeat, determined to learn all of the introspective and strangely lewd lyrics. The words are clever without being patrionizing or cliché, easily moving between cheeky interest and careless empty promises:

If I promise that I’ll be real good…you wanna take me out?

No touchin or feelin’ anything

If I promise that my hands don’t move… you wanna tuck me in?

No touchin or feelin’ anything

If I promise that my lips stand still, you wanna run your mouth?

No touchin or feelin’ anything

If I promise that my head don’t spin, you want a piece of my mind?

They continue on in the same fashion, pondering the unponderable before hitting an abruptly serious chorus of “Whatcha two-timin’ for?” before confessing “I think you started in my head…well, I’d stop anything for you” before dissolving into pounding piano chords and increasingly tortured vocalizations. ‘Wünderbars’ is like the morning-after accompaniment to the events of ‘Monk’. The song begins with drums in a can, slowly adding layers of mournful organ and guitar melodies before a chorus of haunting vocals bemoans serious cognitive dissonance. ‘Vignette no. 2’is a reprise of ‘Vignette No.1′, a melancholy waltz draped in a saloon piano’s comfortably out-of-tune tones.

‘Kiddie Hypnogogia’ begins with a subtle yet strangely pensive piano line, punctuated by an urgent kick drum and foreboding, fuzzed-out guitars. The way the harmony and melody combine and recombine is absolutely goregous, the guitars supporting the vocals in a frenzied yet precise manner. The last minute is like a psychedelic funeral dirge set in space, vaguely reminiscent of Muse‘s Origin of Symmetry; as dirges go, it absolutely rocks.

‘Majik Marker’ is a tome of commentary and provoking phrases, such as “Liquidate everything and let’s go for a ride” and “I can’t trip to get over you”. Complete with warnings against telling one’s mother and the distressing non sequiturs “All the girls at my school are ventriloquists/Tricky dicky hippopotamus”, ‘Majik Marker’ is a psychologist’s wet dream. The last breakdown of the song is full of luscious guitar distortion and would have fit anywhere on the latter half of Abbey Road or The White Album. The song revels in well-orchestrated chaos before dropping to a few spare distorted guitar chords, slowly bringing the tempo back to full rock and roll speed. It’s sheer brilliance in the form of a song, perfectly highlighting Mini Mansions‘ ability to give us exactly what we want without utilizing cliché, overused licks and phrases.

I’m sure that purists will find Mini Mansions a bit too much like The Beatles, and that’s understandable. But I think the main difference between the two is that the trio prefers to bask in the shadow of the intricate and obscure parts of the human psyche, rather than occasionally treading at its boundaries. If this sounds like what The Beatles were doing towards the middle and end of their legendary career as a band, then just imagine where Mini Mansions might go. Or just as  imporantly, where they might take you. Pick up Mini Mansions on iTunes today. Trust me, it’ll be the best ten bucks you’ve spent in a long time

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