Dispersal

Springtank’s *Dispersal* sounds like somebody broke into the alternative-rock evidence locker, grabbed whatever still had fingerprints on it, and made an album before the authorities arrived.

Take “Played Out.” It carries the hard, non-grunge muscle of ’90s alt-rock—think Stabbing Westward colliding with the blunt-force glow of Collective Soul’s “Shine”—then smears a little ’80s goth across the guitar tone. There is enough *Bloody Kisses*-era Type O Negative in the room to fog the mirror. Could the track have slipped onto *The Crow* soundtrack without anybody checking its ID? Absolutely.

Then “Counterfeit” staggers in with another bad idea that turns out to be a very good one: raw ’90s industrial, a swing beat, and a light drizzle of ketamine. The result? A f-n vibe for sure.

You may now be asking, “That’s nice, Uncle Fester, but can anybody in this crypt sing?” :: lightbulb ignites behind teeth :: “Okay” opens with a three-part harmony that should earn immediate approval from anyone who keeps *Revolver* or *Rubber Soul* within arm’s reach. “Meet Me in Dresden” feints toward heaviness, backs into a beach-cruising drift, then lands a nearly anthemic title refrain in roughly two and a half minutes.

“Trust Fund Kid” gathers the album’s scattered chemicals, puts on a Robert Smith wig and lipstick, and drives off with the windows down. A little Cure foundation. Plenty of Spring in the tank.

*Dispersal* does not pick one decade and behave. Good. Summer records should occasionally look suspicious under ultraviolet light.