At once a spiritually-charged journey and a shit-kicking party record, American Cream Band comes to Quindi covering all the bases. American Cream Band was formed by Twin-Cities musician Nathan Nelson, taking the form of improvised live shows and albums Frankensteined from these sessions into exultant, fully-formed records. The band's previous records have manifested on labels like Moon Glyph and Medium Sound, and now Presents arrives in a freewheeling flash of snappy new wave, skronky sax, call and response sass and some krautrock-minded sonic cosmology. The album came together in December 2021, when Nelson took ten musicians to legendary studio Pachyderm in Cannon Falls, Minnesota. Living together, they laid down some drum-heavy sessions that became the building blocks of the record. "Taste What We Taste" is the perfect example of an exuberant groove pounded on skins as a vessel for a joyous get-down, with the singers and players free to freak out on top. Nelson remains at the center of the melee, throwing half-sardonic, half-heartfelt calls out for connection. "Banana" celebrates nonsense and holds down the most serious of beats -- a disco-not-disco deadeye dripping in late night sleaze and lysergic potential. On "Royal Tears," the jagged guitar chops call back to Gang Of Four, while the hot n' heavy sax from Cole Pulice baits James Chance and all the other angular New York un-jazz misfits. Amongst his other implied intentions for the recordings, Nelson wanted to channel opposites, not least the distinct male-female energies in his vocal sparring with the girls on assistance duties. It wouldn't be right to call them backing singers as they shoot back at his punchy mantras, bringing a certain fierce femininity that tips its hat to The B-52s' Cindy Wilson and Kate Pierson, not to mention iconic post-punk bands like Au Pairs, Delta 5 and Bush Tetras. There's space for the dreamier kosmische which has crept into the American Cream oeuvre in the past, as "Sirens" opens the album up in a swirling pond of rag tag percussion and molten synths. "Words Would Handcuff Us" cools the whole riotous assembly down in unmoored perfection, a strung-out Bossa nova seance dusted with celestial drips from analogue spaceships. Equally treading the line between light and dark, conscious and unconscious, the sacred and profane, Presents is a life-affirming, creep-under-the-skin listening experience -- a joyously transient chapter in the evolution of American Cream Band.