The Lovely Bad Things are the hyperactive omnitalented and relentlessly hilarious garage-pop band who crowdfunded and benefit-showed their way to an encore performance at the world-famous Primavera Sound festival in Spain and whose new album The Late Great Whatever was titled during a dream at the suggestion of their spirit guide, who happens to look strangely like Dinosaur Jr drummer Murph. The Lovely Bad Things are Brayden and brother Camron Ward, Tim Hatch and Lauren Curtius, each a multi-instrumentalist and each devoted to a bottomless knowledge of ridiculous pop culture and comprehensive appreciation for the Pixies, though if you dismantled their songs and their record collections both you'd find Sonic Youth, Modest Mouse, the B-52s, the Wipers and of course Redd Kross, whose sense of humor and sense for a hook the Bad Things have inherited.

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The Late Great Whatever was started just after the release of the maxi-EP New Ghost/Old Waves, until now the Lovely Bad Things' signature release. Although they'd released a full-length called Shark Week in 2010, the album that would become ...Whatever was going to be something new, they explain: "Our first real full-length," says Tim. At least half of Shark Week’s songs were written in … oh, about two minutes, calculates Lauren, because back then Lovely Bad Things were just discovering the knockout sugar high that came from just playing music with each other. But this would be different: "How do I say it and not sound like a super-cliché musician?" asks Camron. "More mature, I guess?"

So what's that mean? Not one but two Star Wars references on the tracklist, Bigfoot on the cover, a shout-out to Macho Man Randy Savage and a relentless collection of the strongest songs Lovely Bad Things have ever done. What, did you think "mature" meant? They were going to get all mopey and slow? ("Just say it's 'globular' and 'shapeshifting,'" suggests Camron.) Produced by John Gilbert in the studio built and run by Crystal Antlers' frontman Jonny Bell, this is a record by a band who've developed a telepathic language of their own, with songs that stop and start and turn inside out in ways you just can't play unless you know exactly what everyone else in the studio with you is thinking.