Recorded in the Montreal church owned by the Arcade Fire in a series of long improvisations then cut down to size, Canada’s Wolf Parade deepen their commitment to tight-guitar-synth-pop-grooves and expansive glam-era progressive improvisations. The 11 minutes of “Kissing the Beehive” begins conventionally enough before sprawling out as the album’s obvious closer, while the six minutes of “California Dreamer” tightens the reins ever so slightly, bouncing in exultant glee with shattering guitar chords and elliptical keyboard figures until the chaos settles into songform. There’s a carnivalesque, Brit pop bounce that sends the band on its way, suggesting what the Fratellis might sound like if they weren’t so darned Scottish. “The Grey Estates” and “Soldier’s Grin” pump excitedly with an exaggerated sense of personal fulfillment, a luminous overconfidence that swaggers past to hide their nervous tics. “Fine Young Cannibals” does not in any way recall the band of the same name, but emits from the blurry David Bowie era of Diamond Dogs with its glam pedigree nicely updated.