Kevin Barnes is both sonic adventurer and soul-bearing poet, but on recent albums, his thesaurus has threatened to crush his guitar. The streak continues with “Bassem Sabry,” the funky and overwhelmingly wordy opener for of Montreal’s 13th studio album. “Crucifixion is my conduit,” Barnes whines over staccato guitar riffs and handclaps, rallying against a political landscape of “cycloptic brooding.” There are glimpses of brilliance here, but it’s hard work piecing them together. Aureate Gloom elsewhere collapses under such manic weight, often when Barnes’ claustrophobic lyrics negate his melodic gifts (the monotone, spastic rocker “Last Rites at the Jane Hotel”). Luckily, as the album winds on, Barnes and company strike a more digestible balance: “Apollyon of Blue Room” stands out with its pogoing chorus hook, and “Empyrean Abattoir” is comparatively measured, building to a chorus of lush psychedelia. Barnes remains a pure visionary—if only he’d stop straining so hard to remind us.