Ratatat are back. This is their fourth effort, if you don’t count all the remixes and collaborations; there was the inventive self-titled debut in 2004, Classics in 2006, and LP3 in 2008. LP4 was actually recorded in the same sessions as LP3, all in the span of a few weeks in Catskill, NY—this news probably making everyone wail in dismay, going is there going to be any progression?. The general vibe of the new album, however, is decidedly different. Guitarist Mike Stroud and bass/synth/production maestro Evan Mast have come a long way since 2004, seeing as everything about this album is a thousand times more complex and layered than the duo’s simpler, albeit stellar singles like “Seventeen Years” and “Germany.”

Back then, all they really needed was one decent hook that could be repeated, with small splashes of variation, to achieve a sort of hypnotic effect. The trickiest aspect of creating good instrumental music is making sure it can hold the listener’s interest. To stay interesting, Ratatat had to evolve. With barely any vocals, and without the basic verse-chorus-verse structure used by 99% of popsters on the radio, this kind of electronic music needs some kind of special magnetic pull.

Success for LP4? Absolutely. This shit may be instrumental, but it isn’t elevator music. Right from the get-go with the opener “Bilar,” it’s clear that Ratatat is as far away from Kenny G as you’re going to get. “Bilar” starts with air-raid drone guitars and segues into a shifty, shuffling trip-hop beat with dark, in-and-out flashes of analog synth, strummed guitar, and swirling strings. It’s a complex piece of music, one theme folding into another before cycling back to the opening melody with somber cellos.

“Drugs” is another intricate track, driven by simple and sad piano chords, but instead of staying mournful, it becomes a grimy disco stomp with a super-cool buzzy low end. Weirdly enough, everything about “Drugs” screams Grand Theft Auto; it sounds like it could be the soundtrack of an ‘80s movie about Miami cocaine smugglers, and when those signature twin guitar tracks come in, all of a sudden it’s classic Ratatat.

Almost everything on this album is similarly cinematic, and there are repetitions in style that make the music really cohesive, which is key just because there’s so much going on. “Neckbrace” and “Grape Juice City” both have a similar elastic, rubbery feel, probably because they employ the same oddball, yet strangely compelling, bass nonsense vocals. I was ready to dismiss the constant low-end doobie-doos as cheesy, but an outside opinion encouraged me to reconsider them, and now they’re one of my favorite sounds on LP4. They’ve got stiff competition though: the harpsichords and crazed synths of “Party With Children,” the instantly classic hip-hop beat on “”Mandy,” the Elvis-in-Hawaii twang of “Mahalo.”

“Alps” is a standout. It’s got more layers than a professionally made baklava. The piano is classical and minimalist, the electronic flourishes are Pac Man-ish, the strings are straight out of an old Hollywood movie, and the bass is pure disco. You can dance to it at first, but once the beat disappears, you can sit down, drink some French press, and contemplate some deep philosophical issues; it’s a party-starter that boils down into a concentrated shot of orchestral tragedy.

It’s safe to say that LP4 completely evades any possibility of being boring, despite the lack of concrete vocals. Each song has a distinct personality, and even at the clubbiest moments, the music is never mindless. It’s actually easy to feel intelligent listening to songs like “Drugs” or “Sunblocks,” simply because the structures are so complex as to mimic classical music; one set of sounds will fade into a counter-melody, gradually tweaking, layering, and evolving until the original theme re-emerges. LP4’s songs are interesting because they demand active listening. It would be difficult to play these songs in the background of anything, just because they’re so odd, so stratified, and so uniquely compelling. The album is a fantastic collection of mini electronic symphonies, and a welcome progression in Ratatat’s career.

Track list:
1. Bilar
2. Drugs
3. Neckbrace
4. We Can’t Be Stopped
5. Bob Gandhi
6. Mandy
7. Mahalo
8. Party With Children
9. Sunblocks
10. Bare Feast
11. Grape Juice City
12. Alps