Like Animal Collective if that band had journeyed off some psychoactive deep end instead of delving into fest-friendly poptronica, Athens-via-Macon ensemble Cult of Riggonia offers strange, tribalist-inflected anti-pop, infused with guttural vocal ramblings and vaguely, confusingly ethno-appropriative symbolism. The Cult, best known for its off-the-wall live shows, is as much an experience—or, erm, a cult—as it is a band.

In the past, the group's music hasn't translated as well on wax (or Bandcamp, or y'know, whatever). Its early releases, which date all the way back to 2008, were basically unintelligible, the pseudo-psychotic ramblings of a bunch of stoned 20-somethings. The first signs of real cohesion came with last year's Riggonia Cassette series, a terrific two-part tape trip that incorporated VHS samples and creaky electronics, putting forth a nightmarish vision of retro-futurist cultural chaos.

Enter the newly released Nematode Rodriguez Presents… EP, by far the Cult's most pop-friendly outing to date. Of course, that's not to say it's at all pop-friendly: Experimentation is still, unquestionably, the name of the game. Still, with its booming, blown-out rhythms and hum-along melodies, the EP represents the first time the group's majestic live presence has been capably captured on record. "Dwell Neo Dwell" features the downright catchiest melody the band has put to tape, and though tunes like "Speegin Crancheevs" try their damnedest to obfuscate, their congenial cores invariably peek through, like sunshine through the fog. 3 out of 5.