If albums can be said to have "seasons", Underdogs and Infidels is an autumn album. It hails from that curious little pocket dimension between goth and garage rock -- think of Bauhaus sans spooky theatrics, or a (superficially) grimmer Joy Division with a mild Stooges fixation and a few Jet Black Berries and Tindersticks albums stashed in the back of the closet. Expect twangy, spiky basslines, urgently driving guitar lines and tinny, jackhammered drums. There's also a healthy level of Opal-style psychedelia (have you noticed how badly I'm dating myself here?) in this equation: the slower the song, the more thoroughly it's drenched in thick, syrupy reverb. Where Underdogs and Infidels surprises is with the quality and overall "catchiness" of its songwriting -- from the desperate aggression of "We All Bleed Red" to the smoky decadence of "Ophelian", the album unleases a hidden arsenal of grim-but-undeniably-catchy hooks. This might cause you a minor image crisis -- it's hard to look dark, dangerous and moody when you're compulsively tapping your feet to the Lies!