Mahjongg made a minor splash in 2005 when they released their debut album Raydoncong 2005. Unfortunately for the band, most of the reaction to the album consisted of commenting on how similar its cover was to another album released on the same day: M.I.A.’s Arular. Those who went beyond the cover also noticed that both albums appropriated world-music tropes into modern pop and didn’t shy away from sometimes-inflammatory politics. Beyond that, Raydoncong 2005 was largely forgotten, while M.I.A went on to pseudo-celebrity.

Intent on making an impact on their own terms rather than with unfortunate, coincidental similarities, Mahjongg has returned with Kontpab. While the album still contains a global bent to its instrumentation, most evident in the relentless polyrhythms found throughout, Mahjongg have firmly entrenched themselves in the sounds of the global north. With processed synthesizers, teetering guitars and heavily processed vocals, Brian Eno-era Talking Heads, early Can and last year’s breakthrough post-rockers Battles are easy touchstones. Following in these groups’ footsteps, Mahjongg construct dense, technically dazzling soundscapes largely unhinged from conventions and overflowing with nuanced layers of noise. The result is undeniably propulsive, danceable headphone candy.

Like a lot of music of the same ilk, though, Mahjongg sacrifice emotion for detail, leaving large portions of Kontpab sterile. Unlike Talking Heads, who amplified Fear of Music’s sense of alienation to produce a paranoid masterpiece, or Battles, who used their clinical precision to make Mirrors unsettlingly mechanical, Mahjongg isn’t able to turn Kontpab’s stoicism to their advantage. The results leave listeners with an album that sounds rich yet feels empty.