Those in Cokemachineglow’s readership less, erm, webzine-oriented may not be aware of Sub Pop’s claim that the new Wolf Parade record “may be this generation’s Marquee Moon.” It is not that, whatever that is. Wolf Parade are a band good enough to function without such referents, and At Mount Zoomer seems, at this early point, to be an ideal follow-up to the band’s (let’s call it) epistemologically incendiary debut. Still, in the record’s final third a sonic strain is explored that moves with a sort of locomotion and instrumental segregation that does recall Television but also evokes a moody Springsteen gravitas.

By which gibberish I mean: it sounds like Wolf Parade. Different as they may be as songwriters, Boeckner and Krug create a singular sort of record, and as such their explorations into new sonic territory on At Mount Zoomer always feel genuine. It feels like Wolf Parade. It sounds like them. Hence “Fine Young Cannibals,” which by name and punchy clean guitar lines and rhythmic strut and stomp may recall, say, a certain other band more recently dubbed CMG AOTY-worthy—okay, Spoon—but which recalls, more specifically, Wolf Parade. The changes are subtle but decided: keyboards higher in the mix, a limber, confident pace, less eager to set your heart aflame and more eager to release a strong record. Which they do pretty handily, as it turns out, because this is Wolf Parade. It feels like them. It sounds like them. Two years ago they may’ve opened with the caterwauling climax, but here they wait four minutes to turn resolutely anthemic, Boeckner bellowing “There’s nothing here,” before letting the song drift away like a ribbon down a highway. It’s a model of restraint, easily one of 2008’s finest indie rock songs, and probably the least impressive track on At Mount Zoomer.

This is me biting my tongue.