It should have been called “Lack of Pattern”, as this intentionally obtuse, dense-as-San Francisco-fog-in-April album is as ponderous as anything prog-rock has ever spawned. Borrowing the bizarre time signatures and left-of-center song structure from Dillinger Escape Plan, ABPK makes music for people who have stopped taking their happy pills. With their schizophrenic beats and mangled guitars, the eight tracks roll by at a truly laborious pace, making the album feel much longer and thicker than it actually is. Sound like fun? Yeah it doesn’t.