If Andy Warhol were still around to throw parties and create art at his Factory, he might have very well considered the Oakland-based Lumerians to provide the soundtrack. Cultivating a psychedelic dance-floor sound that they have been working on since their 2011 release, Transmalinnia, the group is back with its latest effort, The High Frontier.

The six tracks that make up the album are drenched with synthetic sounds, and the Lumerians are good at combining these sounds with more traditional rock instrumentation in classic krautrock fashion.

The phrase that serves as the foundation of the first section of the album's title track, 'High Frontier', is made up of an incessantly looping bass guitar and drum pattern while notes of synthesizer and electric guitar begin to creep in over it, creating an altogether unfamiliar mood. The band capitalizes on this unfamiliarity by displaying a mastery of timing through multiple tempo changes, and the different bass guitar tones that are achieved across these changes tend to recall Roger Waters' playing in the earliest Pink Floyd efforts, which definitely suits the band's overall sound.

Although they are never the focal point of The High Frontier, the lyrics are definitely the least intriguing part of the band's offering. For example, in 'Dogon Genesis', the album's first track, it is suggested that "The sunlight is fading this world on a string / reflecting reflections infinitely / Orion is rising, the stars will align / The shadow of shadows erased from our minds," which carries the intellectual weight of some of the campiest progressive rock songs out there - a style that is renowned for the instrumental ability of its players, but definitely not for its lyrics.

This is passable, however, because the band's vocals are always well executed, so they never once detract from the songs. In fact, the vocals that are present on The High Frontier sometimes add an extra layer of psychedelia to its tracks, like on 'The Bloom' and 'Koman Tong'. Even still, the Lumerians seem to thrive in a more instrumental setting.

The beginning of 'The Bloom' sounds like what Salvador Dalí's The Persistence of Memory looks like - that droning synth is pretty desolate, but in the foreground time seems to be melting away. That is, of course, until it takes off completely when the drums abruptly kick in at an alarming pace, and finally, what began as a slow, mind-warping meditation ends in an abrasive chaos created by dissonant guitar textures.

The High Frontier is a completely mind-bending collection of songs.