There are two ways to enter a cold pool: Dive right in or slowly ease yourself down the steps. On Luxury, North Carolina art-rock quartet the Nein opts to pull the listener in gradually rather than yank him into the experimental, noise-rock-influenced tracks that pervade the record. The opener, “Burn Construction,” kicks off with a catchy acoustic guitar riff, turning into a conventional, folk-tinged rock song that leads you to believe the rest of the disc will follow suit. It doesn’t. From there, the Nein delves into electronic blips vaguely reminiscent of the Faint, static-driven reverb, and a general preference for noise over melody. Many of the tracks retain a skeletal song structure, with hints of a chorus, but a few bear almost no resemblance to an archetypal rock song. “Ennio” is solely based on quietly picked acoustic guitar notes intermingled with dramatic pauses of silence and the gentle shake of jingle bells, the two-and-a-half-minute track fades out with almost 30 seconds of silence. “The Future Crumbles,” on the other hand, surges in and out of cacophonous bursts of gritty synths as a dulcet, melancholy vocal line glides across a quietly introspective—and notably beautiful—melody, formed by softly strummed guitars and the occasional shimmer of chimes. While the Nein’s previous record, 2005’s Wrath of Circuits, had its share of angular postpunk guitars and synth parts, Luxury sounds like an actual course through uncharted waters. But despite the band’s newfound preference for noise, and its willingness to use typical instruments to craft atypical songs, the record still feels accessible. Flashes of introspection shine through the walls of crackling static, and the noisy parts feel carefully orchestrated to glimmer rather than grate; it sounds haphazard but was probably created in a far more precise manner. Whether it’s a swimming pool you want to splash around in depends on how strongly you need melody, but once you’re coaxed to dip a toe in the water, you’ll likely wind up fully immersed.