Something old, something new.

Sacramento post-hardcore outfit Dance Gavin Dance are born anew across their latest full-length offering, Pantheon. In the wake of clean vocalist Tilian Pearson’s departure, and the death of longtime bassist Tim Feerick, the band – now consisting of lead guitarist Will Swan, drummer Matthew Mingus, harsh vocalist Jon Mess and lead vocalist/rhythm guitarist Andrew Wells – clearly aspire to a fresh artistic identity; Pantheon hits that mark with shotgun accuracy. 

“Animal Surgery” leads the record into a tidal swell of haunting electronic ambience. Guitars trickle in like harbingers before shattering the placidity with violent abandon, giving way to pounding double-kicks and unforgiving screams. One hell of an introduction, certainly, building momentum maintained for the project’s 55-minute entirety. Melodies soar erratically atop a floor-shaking rhythm section, seldom letting up amidst an hourlong series of stylistic swerves. 

On “Strawberry’s Daughters” we see a characteristically excellent juxtaposition between Wells and Mess, balancing the silky vocal tone of the former with the latter’s authoritative roars. One never dominates the other, never falters to the other’s command. In this, there is appreciable chemistry.

One of the brighter standouts from Pantheon’s tracklist is “The Conqueror Worm.” Swan unleashes crybaby wails and g-funk-inspired verses throughout, his incredible range of musicianship and influence apparent. The band furthers their eclectic streak by invoking funk royalty George Clinton on “Space Cow Initiation Ritual,” arguably the album’s centerpiece. “Space Cow” is the beating heart of Pantheon, the heart of which itself is a groovy refrain led by Clinton. The section, bejeweled with adlibs from Mingus and wonderfully irreverent vocoded vocals from Mess, demonstrates the greatest that Pantheon has to offer. “The Conqueror Worm” and “Space Cow” are funk, hip-hop, electronic and hardcore in a menagerie of nu-metal nostalgia, highlighting the beautiful blending of boundaries at which Dance Gavin Dance excel. Pantheon’s best moments are at once modern and classic, daringly orthodox and reliably unpredictable. 

Inversely, the dullest points on the album are those within the comfort of well-trodden ground. “The Robot with Human Hair: Rebirth,” “Midnight at McGuffy’s” and “All the Way Down” among other tracks (most on the record’s back end) keep closer to the established canon of their genre. Bad, they absolutely are not. Somewhat bland and repetitive? Maybe, especially compared to the musical melting pot the band has proven themselves capable of. Pantheon’s production is not as consistent as it perhaps should be, and a disappointing chunk of its songs are not adventurous enough to justify an uneven mix. None of these faults are catastrophic, but altogether they pave the album’s journey on rough terrain. 

Closer “Descend to Chaos” makes for a dramatic if unambitious finish. Mingus’ percussion is energetic as always, the songwriting is solid and Mess executes a charmingly Chino Moreno-esque cadence. “Descend to Chaos” has a temperament reflective of its companion tracks: enjoyable yet longing for something more. 

After the tumult of the band’s recent history, one cannot blame them for a largely safe return to form. Nevertheless, a craving for more of the ingenuity showcased on the record’s highlights — a yearning for Swan, Mingus, Mess and Wells to lean deeper into their off-kilter influences — manifests. It’s not often that funkadelic intersects with west coast hardcore, but the collision verges on magic and demands replication. Pantheon is a record of high highs and competent lows, an all-around fun listen with teasing glimmers of ambition; it is when those glimmers become radiant that Dance Gavin Dance take on rare form.

On “Space Cow”, Clinton poses a valid question: “do you wanna funk?” To that, the answer should always be an emphatic yes. Keep on funkin,’ DGD.