From the outset of Travel Book, Arpline wants you to know that they love sound. The pulsating bass and shifting keyboards immediately grasp you and let you know, “we own this sound. There will be no mistakes.” I was quite inclined to agree. Relying heavily on repetition, both with rhythm and synth, Arpline have created a dense album passing as frivolous footwork. What would normally pass as fancy is simple, and that is a tough feat to accomplish.As I mentioned in my first listen, it could be easy to dismiss Travel Book as danceable indie rock or even create some lame new term like prog-dance or some such nonsense. Reviewers long ago exhausted the idea of new terms and labels (excluding chillwave– the greatest music moniker in decades), so I am going to go with an oft underused adjective: good. This is a good album, driven by competency, an appreciation of purposeful noise and lyrical simplicity. Listening to this album without thought is nearly impossible. It weaves and darts impressively from song to song, creating a delicate balance between digestible pop and dark, vibrant rock.Case in point, the albums two strongest songs: “Parts Unknown” and “Cap.” “Parts Unknown” jumps and thrashes with intense repetition and a grooved bassline that belie the lyrical prowess. “Waking up with no one\u002F you can never have enough” is in and of itself a baiting line, but over a barrage of different rhythmic substructures, the line is ever more standoffish– more staid than it would be given a straightforward guitar-drums-bass approach. The synth beat pulsates and drives and the staccato vocals pound home the point. Its the amalgamation of style and substance; execution and planned opulence of sound.“Cap” is, by the standards of the album, a slow jam. It starts with rattling noise that transmogrifies into a backbeat, matching slow-moving drums and bass. The vocals shapeshift to a softer, more melodic touch from the normal fixed-tone that overpowers the songs (not such a bad thing once you listen a few times, trust me). A dark pair of guitar melodies pipe in halfway through, proving the textural nature is no accident. The band bridges between sated and tipsy to coiled and destructive in seconds, but neither is too voluminous or dark.As the albums weans toward the end, with “Game” and “Rope,” the band does tend to wear down. “Game” is an especially tedious number, weaker in constitution than its three predecessors. If it stood alone, it would garner more attention. “Rope” is a longer track that takes awhile to warm up before intensity attacks the listener– there’s a full two minutes before the vocals kick in. “Rope” is an outro with a memorable grasp, in other words. It’s actually a good way to describe the band itself.They are a band with a memorable grasp of sound, what they expect from themselves and what they intend to make. It’s not often a record of this aptitude makes such an impression. Normally, the dismissal process rears its ugly head just in time for the band to try and refine some new sound or correct themselves with some makeshift malleability tot he people. Travel Book is edgy without having to be. It’s methodical. It’s terse. It’s not perfect, but it’s good. If good is making a comeback, then Arpline may lead the charge. If it’s retro or dance or some sort of “wave” then they may as well quit now. They are already better than their upcoming label.