In a time of budding experimental works of music being brought to light, it’s fresh to see anything new, interesting, or off the beaten path. The fortunate thing about artists like Animal Collective, Vampire Weekend, and Broken Social Scene is they move our collective magnifying glass away from the typical and into a different territory that we may either not be aware of, or have easily overlooked. The trouble with a flourishing environment of experimental pop music is that every time someone comes around with a hit, they’re not just shifting the magnifier, they’re also raising the bar. Librarians’ sophomore album is one that gets in with the styles of a new shift of unique music, but tends to stay in one place instead of going the extra mile towards musical greatness. But not all is lost on the 10-track album Present Passed.

I’m going to go ahead and be brusque about the sore thumb aspect on this album. Most of the 33 minutes of audio sound like unreleased Animal Collective tracks. Finding inspiration and stylistic borrowing in music is one thing, (everyone takes inspiration from something else, so no crime can be found in that), but several tracks just come off in an almost carbon copy fashion. Upon first listen, “Candy Season,” Wait And See,” “Present Passed,” and “Hard To Unwind” all bring to mind the rousing Baltimore quartet, so much so that it’s hard to get past the reminder and concentrate on the actual music. “Hard To Unwind” is also worth mentioning because it happens to be one of the better tracks on the album. Tumbling drums and retro space-aged keyboards serve as a pleasant wallpaper of sound, encasing various other percussion bits and harmonious vocals all working together to make one of the album’s shinier gems.

The high point on Present Passed is the second longest song on the album, “So What?” It’s a song with a pacing steady beat and gentle, subtle guitar parts that paint little accents all around the track. Long, almost howling vocals drag you through the sound as the work seems to turn off the part of your brain that produces new thoughts. The lyrics are quaint and personal, but are sung with a general feeling of sheer honesty: “It’s like you’re always there when I need someone to talk to about whatever it is that’s got me down.” After some pondering, the song reminds one of “Dry The Rain” by The Beta Band, and is the album’s standout track.

One track that seems to pull the listener away from the album the most is “Island Jam,” a two-minute Jimmy Buffett-esque instrumental that sounds as though it could serve as the soundtrack to a slapstick comedy set in the Caribbean. It serves less as an intermission and more as a crowbar jamming apart two halves of a stylistically consistent album.

With all the kids running amok doing what they please with music these days, we see the experimental indie band start to replace the garage-sourced rock band more and more. Librarians are one cog in a constantly moving sound machine that is taking over the face of music we see today. The issue with Present Passed is that their part in the machine isn’t as pivotal as some other acts that come around. No band is without potential, and any piece of music can keep a band afloat in the big bad ocean. Librarians just have to find a sturdier vessel to climb into on future attempts.

(Postfact Records, PO Box 21041, Washington, DC 20009)