If Sigur Rós and the Beach Boys ventured out to the desert together, channeled the spirits of an early 20th century mariachi band, and took a magical, musical sleigh-ride through a snowcapped desert, all while Sufjan Stevens and his backing band stood around a Joshua tree, providing sweetly spooky atmospherics, then the result might sound something like The Ruby Suns' Sea Lion. The sophomore album by the New Zealand-based, California-bred outfit might just be the most idiosyncratic release since Broken Social Scene's You Forgot It In People. Like that seminal album, it's a work that needs to be experienced in whole. When taken that way, though, Sea Lion is nothing short of brilliant.

From its first notes to its last, Sea Lion is a musical world tour de force, deftly combining folk, psychedelic, New Wave, surf-rock, and pop song-writing conventions with Polynesian and Afropop rhythms, exotic field recordings, and lyrics sung in a variety of languages, including Maori. With all of these disparate elements at play, what could have ended up sounding like a world music sample platter instead forms a cohesive whole, bound together by the band's sincere desire to create deep and interesting soundscapes.

The Ruby Suns have taken the dream-pop of their first, self-titled album and injected it with a sense of pan-global awe. Their latest magical mystery tour kicks off tentatively with the slowly plucked guitar and distorted, shoe-gazing vocals of "Blue Penguin." Sinister sounds lilt in the background as the album opener slinks forward, only to fade out as the decidedly fuzz-free "Oh, Mojave" breaks the static with a thundering strum. The song's rolling, rollicking percussion charts a clearer course for where Sea Lion is actually headed, eventually segueing into the Hare Krishna-esque chant of "Tane Mahuta."

Frontman Ryan McPhun has drawn some easy comparisons to fellow California dreamer Brian Wilson, and mid-album track "Remember" could easily be seen as a loving homage to the Beach Boy's "Wouldn't It Be Nice," but McPhun is anything but derivative. What he and Wilson have most in common is a knack for dense arrangements and stunning harmonies.

Though a solid effort throughout, Sea Lion's finest moments can be found in its final two tracks. "Kenya Dig It?" may be the most impressive track on the album, with flute interludes, swirling synthesizers, beautiful harmonies, and a shift into a surf-rock beat at the two and a half minute mark that sends the song out on a high note. "Morning Sun" caps Sea Lion perfectly, with overlapping vocal harmonies and field recordings bursting into a trancey, New Wave sing along complete with stuttering wet drums and a dreamy, reverb drenched vocal outro. The result is one of the most exciting albums I've heard in a long time and, just maybe, the best release so far this year. Dig it.

- Curt Whitacre

This review was originally published at http://www.tracermagazine.com.