De Lorians are a Tokyo-based quintet who play a freewheeling form of proggy, spiritual jazz-rock heavily influenced by Frank Zappa as well as the Canterbury scene. The group's succinct 32-minute debut is packed with contorted time signatures, unexpected shifts, and gratuitous soloing, as well as a colorful array of instruments including horns, keyboards, didgeridoo, and theremin. (The album is instrumental, but one of the bandmembers also happens to be a throat singer.) "Daytona" opens the album with an ecstatic burst of drums and saxophones, then eases into slow, relaxed interplay before suddenly ramping up into a frenzied mega-prog rhythm, only calming down momentarily for a contemplative flute solo. "A Ship of Mental Health" is unabashedly Zappa-fied, even suddenly breaking midway to splice in rapid-fire bits of conversation and snacking. As hypercharged as the band seem, they cool down a little bit during "Roccotsu," which begins as a lovely Pink Floyd drift before switching up to churning funk halfway through. The tense, swirling "Himalia" is the album's most frantic piece, ending up as a manic pile-up of squealing strings and bulbous wah-wah effects. Finally, "Toumai" is a tumultuous multi-movement suite which seems like a whirlwind seven-minute tour of the band's psyche, darting from one peak to the next before building up to a big finish. At this fledgling stage in their career, De Lorians sound a little messy and scattered, but their energy is boundless, and the five of them seem to be a wellspring of ideas. Furthermore, it's quite refreshing to find a young group dedicated to this particular patch of the musical landscape -- their music is devoid of cynicism, and they seem thoroughly excited to be exploring the infinite possibilities of musical creation.