Like fellow sonic journeyman and kindred spirit Beck Hansen, Cass McCombs often gets his kicks via left-field fake outs and U-turns. A given LP might start with a lo-fi noise-rock attack, then slither into jazz crooning or breezy folk. His canvas is as broad as his record collection—for him, the element of surprise is as crucial as a chord change. With 2011’s bummed-out Wit’s End, he stripped back his arrangements and captured one mood across a full track list, but his early genre-hopping zeal was sorely missed. On Mangy Love, he massages a sweet spot between chaos and consistency, with hooks and grooves as compelling as the stylistic shifts. McCombs still observes the world with warped wit blurred with profound sadness: “The highest authority on Cheez Whiz/ Hiding behind a Supreme Courturinal,” he sings over an addictive Afro-funk gallop on “Run Sister Run.” On “Bum Bum Bum,” he contrasts bleak imagery (“No, it ain’t no dream, it’s all too real / How long until this river of blood congeals?”) with hypnotic soft-rock guitar arpeggios. This weird tandem of catharsis and silliness—all captured with hi-fi studio resonance by producers Rob Schnapf and Dan Horne— finds McCombs in his purest state. (Fellow surrealist musician Mike Gordon lends his talents to the album as well.) “Sugar and spice and everything weird,” he sings. Spot-on.