Apparently, music is more vital than we ever imagined. I'm not referring to some teenage bedroom headphone salvation or to music being the soundtrack to our crushes and crushings. Literally, music is the foundation for the entire universe. Music is God.

According to string theory, puppies, apples and tables are made out of compounds, which are made out of atoms, which are made out of protons, neutrons, and electrons, which are made out of quark, which are created from strings. Strings come both looped and linear. These elementary particles we observe in particle accelerators could be thought of as the "musical notes" or excitation modes of elementary strings. So there it is, in theory. The entire universe is an infinite symphony of harmonizing strings.

In faith, I've always believed this to be true. Therefore, I've invented subatomic microphones in attempt to record the music in my molecules. Invisible probes are soundchecking the spins and charges of my electrons as we speak. A ¼" plug runs from a jack in the base of my neck into my system's receiver. I have the volume cranked. I'm ready to hear what the fundamental music of my ingredients sounds like. It's coming through. I hear an accelerating drum loop crescendoing into a blast of power chords. I hear the Super Furry Animal's Guerrilla.

It's hard to argue against the template of the perfect pop record being either the Beatles' Revolver or Sgt. Pepper's. Yet, what make this so? For one, these albums clock in at about 35 minutes. That's perfect-- long enough to offer an engaging experience and a complete vision, yet brief enough to never get stale and keeping you barely begging for more. Secondly, these albums, while containing brilliant singles like "I'm Only Sleeping" and "Getting Better," must be heard as a whole. The songs meld into each other, refer to each other, and complete a vision. Thirdly, the lyrics float from sorrow, to joy, to jest, to the sublime. Without any fear of being labeled heretical, I can safely say that the Super Furry Animals' Guerrilla is the closest thing to a late '60s Beatles record-- in spirit, not blatant mimicry-- I've heard this decade. It easily fits the above criterion. But leave aside such fanboy academia. Guerrilla simply sounds like both everything and nothing that's floated through your ears.

"Do or Die" rips open the record with Pixies-ish chord changes punctuated with deep digital blips and subtle solos. From this point on, it's clear that Super Furry electronic wizard, Cian Ciaran, is the true star of Guerrilla. His effects and grooves add extraterrestrial textures and surprisingly moving hooks. The album's second act, the trilogy of "Wherever I Lay My Phone (That's My Home)," "Some Things Come From Nothing," and "The Door to This House Remains Open," offers wonderful intercourse between electronic beats and pop bliss. The wistful keyboard hook of "Some Things" is the most achingly beautiful digital noise ever heard in a pop song-- think Radiohead mating with µ-Ziq. "The Door to This House Remains Open" pounds thundering breakbeats underneath tropical travelogues. No pop group has sounded more electronic, and no electronic group has sounded more pop.

And getting back to the Beatles, remember "Good Day, Sunshine?" It clocked in at about two minutes. Paul McCartney knew that pop music, no matter how wonderful, must be kept short. Similarly, "Fire in My Heart" and "The Turning Tide" offer two delicious capsules of "not- too- deep- unless- you- want- it- to- be" balladry. But the Super Furry's most brilliant pop- coup is "Northern Lites." Steel drums splash against Brazilian rhythms and popping acoustic guitar. It makes Beck sound like Smash Mouth, and might set the record for the pop song that is insanely catchy in the most continents.

Peter Fowler's surreal, cute artwork fits perfectly. Both the music and the sculpted characters are loveable yet bizarre, digital yet organic, cartoonish yet accomplished, playful yet meaningful. It may seem silly, but it's quite brilliant. Super Furry Animals point out the absurdity and beauty in modern human interconnectivity. Beauty in absurdity: call that the "concept," if you will. (The artwork is most definitely integral in creating the perfect pop album.)

So, back to those strings-- what makes them vibrate? Who holds the divine bow gently sliding across their tautness? With further advancement in particle acceleration and microscope technology, I'm confident that scientists will find colorful, miniscule creatures, like the menagerie decorating the sleeve of Guerrilla behind it all. Obviously, the Super Furry Animals know something we all do not. After all, they've been inside our atoms.

-Brent DiCrescenzo