Cougar

We tried resisting the temptation to deem this gang of instrumental mood merchants the Sons of Tortoise. But it’s just too hard not to measure the five-piece band’s sound and style by the Chicago post-rock supergroup’s example. Based in Madison, Wisconsin, Cougar evolved out of an ongoing aesthetic think tank that began in 2003, as members huddled in basement spaces to jam and explore their own theories about electro-acoustic music in a collective context. If that all seems a tad postgraduate, it is, though the results—as heard on the group’s debut album, Law, produced by Chicago’s much-adored John McEntire (Tortoise, Sea and Cake)—argue otherwise. The band’s knack for easily unfolding textural soundscapes isn’t academic in the least. It’s sheer pleasure.

Cougar emphasizes the gentle chime and melodic intricacy of acoustic guitar, accented by brushed drums, in a folk/jazzy mode (“Black Dove”), and in a blink can go all Harry Partch limbo lounge (“Five”). Indeed, percussionist D. H. Skogen is Cougar’s secret weapon. Skogen is adroit at conjuring eccentric color fields and polyrhythmic flourishes, his forte in Madison’s Youngblood Brass Band—a breakbeat-loving version of a New Orleans Mardi Gras parade troupe that shares members with Cougar. He can inject anything from a hard-cracking samba street rhythm to the ethereal harmonics of gamelan into Cougar’s sonic environments, meshing with the lively electronics of Aaron Sleator. Even if seemingly straightforward tracks like “Interracial Dating” remind us too much of a Windham Hill interlude for hipsters, the sum of Law’s synthesized swerve is far richer and quirkier.—Steve Dollar

Cougar plays Empty Bottle Thursday 25.