Some of the albums I find most interesting are those in which a band oscillates its sound track to track – the albums where there’s some core sound, some central genre label, but each individual track illuminates some side of the band I never would’ve thought I’d find. Toronto’s Mausoleum plays that hand in spades, pulling a central post-punk feel to all edges of the musical map in their newest EP The Tombs. “Anniversary” sets the stage: the synth sound is so wholly 80s that it’s wearing a zebra-stripe jacket and neon pink leather slacks; the backing guitar chords trickle in pulse and the lead octaves slice through the mix; the vocals are long and washed-out and drenched in reverb. But Mausoleum throws its first wrench in the spokes with the opener to “Night Sun”, a haunting, frenetic guitar riff that sounds like The Moon & Antarctica-era Modest Mouse – and though they slip pretty easily back into that 80s sound, there’s a memory of that intro in the harsh guitar bends near the end of the song. But before you can — DAMN ANOTHER WRENCH – “Brickworks” rings true to its name, hurling a nauseatingly-good clipped bassline and chunky, slappy guitar riffs with ultra-spooky solo lines. The lyrics get even spacier, the rhythm section jams it out and finally stalls – in a single stick-click they convene again, to usher in the quivering guitar and synth of “Last Stand”. And then, again, there’s the pivot on “Sea of Gold”, where this ’80s’ band starts playing something like corroded dub and then bursts out into lazer-like blasts and guitar bends. As my first listen concluded in a duel between a jazz sax and the guitarist’s razor-riffs, it hit me just how diverse this EP is – clocking in at just about 15 minutes. Grab a copy, hop in your car or on the Green Line, and just ride in circles for a few hours: this is the proper accompaniment, done properly.