Los Angeles’s Wounded Lion belong to that tribe of primitive, shambling, minimalists who take their cues from tribal elders the Velvet Underground and the Modern Lovers, and skew it all with a dash of irony and a hint of art-skronk. Inane lyrics (“I’m staying in the cave!” “Coors, Light! Coors, Light!”) shouted and yelped atop clanging, ringing guitars and tinny, slapdash percussion manage to invoke mysterious weight; you’d swear singer Brad Eberhard (a visual artist and former art teacher) was singing about despair or war or social injustice. But, nah, he’s just having fun — and spreading it around. “Creatures In the Cave” churns into an exhilarating, Velvets-inspired adrenalin rush, and the jittery guitars on “Dagoba System” sound like the Feelies and the Clean duking it out in a dank underground club in 1979. Unexpected touches like the roller-rink organ on the hilarious “Pony People,” the faux-Hawaiian romanticism in “Crunchy Stars” and the ‘70s hard-rock choogle of “Carol Cloud” add another dimension to this gleeful celebration of primal — and distinctly American — rock ’n’ roll.