Like the condition it's named for, Imbroglio's second album, Sleep Deprivation, plays tricks on listeners' minds, immersing them in a grimy haze of experimental grindcore and sludge that often borders on the hallucinatory. The labyrinthine songs create a path through the album that, while full of twists and turns, is always moving toward something. This twisting, yet deliberate, structure means that it never feels like Imbroglio are getting lost in their own heads, but rather that the band is realizing some kind of dark, almost oppressive, musical vision. Even though the album is structurally impressive, Sleep Deprivation's sonic qualities are what really stand out. From the opening moments, the album has a suffocating grunginess about it, with every instrument feeling like it's covered in dirt and rust, making the whole thing feel like it's taking place in a long abandoned factory just waiting to collapse in on itself in one final and grandly entropic gesture. This combination of the mercurial and the murky makes Sleep Deprivation an album that challenges listeners on all fronts to stand against the smothering crustiness that's assaulting them from all directions and negotiate their way through to the other end of the path that Imbroglio have set before them. It might be dangerous to go alone, but anyone brave enough to make the journey will be better for the experience.