The Impossible Shapes from Indiana have electrically projected what stands as a direct and feverish summoning on the late 60s sugar-sandoz-lick of the pop-folk format. Formed in 1998 The Impossible Shapes have kept a profoundly articulate sense of classic song / dream structure whether they are billowing in drenched multi-tacked gauze like Indianapolis forefathers Zerfas or snarled in amp-buzz annihilation of power-quartet stage performances. On the flip, Barth can pixie dance from guitar play / vocal slay in a quaint yet sexually sly role of piper against Deer's counterpoint-heavy arrangements of tape-spliced antics. Like meat-pulp quicksand, they pull you deep in. "Tum" is buoyed by these three streams from the opening Bram Martin-like invocation through the scratch orchestral vision of "Twisted Sol Epoch" toward the shimmering gallop heavy "Florida Silver Springs".