Cyclical clusters of guitar notes tumble minimalistically over an insistent rhythmic bass-drums pitter-patter that should, for once and all, be defined as funky. Steel guitar notes float along the clouds like glassy ribbons, and the vocals stretch, strain and break through baritone utterances of loss, defiance and reconciliation.

These songs are unlike anything anyone has ever attempted: full of wisdom and bewilderment, delivered in the passionate adolescent warble of an ancient explorer; they set the mood for a final act of lovemaking between brain and heart.

A lo-fi hi-tech reworking of the gospel standard. Intended as a club hit for sex-abstinent Christian teens, or a work song for mentally disabled death row inmates, the song moves through several schizophrenic instrumental sections and a rap breakdown before reaffirming the power of our Lord and Savior in an uplifting, hi-energy climax.

With these new and pristinely re-recorded songs, The Occasion effortlessly defend their title as the known universe's most mysteriously heavy musical machinery.

A loose-limbed, piano-plunked, honey-harmonied song that reminds us of sitting in the park in the summer, eating shaved ice, and playing frisbee with our best friends? girlfriends.

Soon you will hear these beautifully dense, falsetto-delivered, distortion-soaked rock songs on the radio, and see an artfully directed video with their likenesses on your late-night MTV. For now, you can enjoy them in your headphones.