Garage rock and psychedelic pop became fashionable again during the four years between Seemingly Solid Reality and The Digital Age, so Outrageous Cherry's return is nothing if not well-timed. Of course, Matthew Smith and company are lifers -- this album arrives 20 years after Outrageous Cherry -- so the fact that The Digital Age was released by Burger Records is more of a reflection on the band's impact on that scene than an attempt to be hip. Either way, Burger is a perfect home for them, and especially for their distinctly (and somewhat perversely) lo-fi approach this time around. Outrageous Cherry come wrapped in more fuzz and echo than they have in years, serving up all their different flavors of garage-pop and nodding to the Troggs, the Velvet Underground, and the Stooges along the way. The Digital Age's opening stretch of songs is almost unbelievably strong: "Energy" is the kind of good-natured, bouncy rocker the band perfected years ago; "You're a Vortex" puts a spacy twist on Detroit garage; "I Think She's All Right" tumbles in on scuzzy riffs and punchy toms that sound like the scruffier cousin of Television's "See No Evil" and the jangly "Department of Ghosts" floats on wonderfully bittersweet chord changes. Though Outrageous Cherry are often at their best when cramming three or so minutes full of pop goodness -- particularly on the deliciously ambivalent "Priceless Thing" -- the band also deliver some of their most enjoyable psych excursions in some time on The Digital Age's second half. There's a distinctly lysergic feel to "Nameless Strangeness"' piano pop and the dense sonics of "Love & Other Electrical Storms," but "Timing Ain't Everything"'s impassioned psych-blues might be the album's most strikingly trippy moment. Given the band's influences, it's not surprising that a lot of The Digital Age sounds like a retreat from its title's concept. As Smith touches on 21st century dysfunctions like transient stages and quality control over sounds that are very mid-20th century, it's just another example of how this band cleverly prove that familiar doesn't have to mean predictable.