Danava

Danava’s psychedelic prog-metal draws from the likes of early Black Sabbath and David Bowie, but only slightly: The band never lingers in any salvaged persona for more than a fraction of a song. Newly released on Kemado, the Portland, Oregon, quartet’s first album skews decidedly panidiosyncratic, overlaying styles, moods and decades with an abandon that might seem funny if it weren’t so well considered. After an extended, krautrockish intro that culminates with a salvo of portentous power chords, “Eyes in Disguise” lurches toward apocalyptic postpunkdom; front-elf Dusty Sparkles chants, “They’re fallen gods” with enough wild-eyed conviction to suggest he’s channeling Ian Curtis—till his voice spirals to heights the Joy Division singer couldn’t have attained with helium.

Even during the band’s frequent triplet-driven interludes—like the ones that take up the better part of crowd-pleasing album opener “By the Mark”—Sparkles refuses to color within genre lines, flitting between bedroom-virtuoso blues licks and classically inspired bombast, while bassist Dell Blackwell and drummer Buck Rothy boogie under synthesist Rockwell’s noteless whooshes. Six or so minutes into the song, Sparkles trails a taunting falsetto wail over the cosmic cacophony with a feral nonchalance that might win him friends among the race of Hindu demons the band is named after. Never has Quincy, Illinois—the sleepy zit on the Mississippi where Sparkles grew up—produced a more promising weirdo. — Rod Smith

Danava plays Mercury Lounge Wed 8 and Northsix Nov 10.