This was an unexpected gem if ever there was one. From the netherest reaches of our Western boundary–fair Victoria–comes this euphonic patchwork of an album, earnestly quilting together an honest structure from what sounds like different albums of roughly the same genre: a mix tape from a cool older brother who never existed. Like a patchwork quilt, however, the self-titled Freak Heat Waves exists as a single entity, a document that varies from song to song just enough to be deliciously different from itself, but not so much that it doesn’t make sense. There is a distinct voice here–even in the instrumental tracks–that hearkens to everything good about this side of the musical coin they’re mining: noise, post-punk, shoegaze and beyond. The single word song titles bring to mind Joy Division at their darkest, and when those beautiful, sweeping guitar arpeggios kick in, you can’t help but be reminded of the now legendary Women. Indeed, perhaps it’s the silenced voice of the all-too-late Chris Reimer, in the producer’s chair, that we can hear as the thread stitching the album together. Have a listen and be reminded of yourself.