The Baltimore quartet Wilderness released its first two acclaimed but perhaps overly similar albums within the space of a year, in 2005 and 2006. So with a two and a half year wait until their third LP, (k)no(w)here, one might expect a new sound from the band, particularly given the album’s genesis as a performance art piece, commissioned for an art gallery performance in 2008. But while (k)no(w)here‘s 8 tracks operate as a flowing, continuous whole, with segues bridging one to the next where previous Wilderness efforts had more distinct individual songs, the overall sound is largely unchanged from the band’s previous albums.

As beloved as Lungfish are in Baltimore, there’s virtually no other band in the city that’s followed in their footsteps as closely as Wilderness, with its rambling post-punk soundscapes, circular guitar riffs and stream-of-consciousness lyrics. The only problem, however, is that Wilderness singer James Johnson is no match for Lungfish’s Daniel Higgs, or John Lydon, or David Byrne, or any of the other vocalists he’s oftened compared to. His deep bellow is actually more reminiscent of Glenn Danzig, and the strange accent he hollers in sometimes sounds almost comically ridiculous. But his voice has also never sounded more part of a cohesive whole than it does on (k)no(w)here, blending into the sprawling textures the rest of the band lays out.

Given the limitations of Johnson’s vocals, it’s not surprising that one of the most immediately enjoyable songs on the album, “(p)ablum,” features some more melodic backing vocals from another member of the band. But as (k)no(w)here wanders into its second half, Wilderness hits its stride with the hypnotic closing trio of songs, beginning with the 8-minute “Chinese Whisperers.” And it’s in those songs that guitarist Colin McCann establishes himself as the true architect of Wilderness’s sound, squeezing out wobbly, squealing sheets of trebly melody.

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