Au, a not-particularly-easy-to-classify band from Portland, play a weird, welcoming brand of quasi-ritual music with alternating strains of futurism and anachronism that run on parallel tracks. No talk of them can go long without mention of Animal Collective, but Au take that obvious influence into some less-than-obvious corners. Dense with handclaps and whoops of elfin provenance, “Are Animals” sounds like Animal Collective hanging out a carnival booth where feats of derring-do are rewarded with toy thumb pianos — but only before it swerves, halfway in, towards jazz-fusion with a squirming bass line and vintage organ sounds. The same sense of sepia-toned history drifts into “RR Vs. D,” which mixes would-be showtune murmurs with hints of barrelhouse piano before launching into full-bore parade music. Likewise “Prelude,” which slows down to an ambient crawl but still derives its drama from what sounds like an old accordion or hurdy-gurdy. Some of the other slower songs, given to wandering lines of languid guitar, sound slight and bare in comparison to Verbs'more unique highlights. But then there's an arresting exception like “Summerheat,” which builds an ethereal singing-saw mood into something more brash and cathartic with splashy cymbals, sliding strings and flecks of good old-fashioned…