Matthew Good apparently wrote these songs while in the throes of anxiety attacks - and it shows.

Smarter than your average Bear, as it were, the tightly wound singer-songwriter and his band deliver a seething rock 'n' roll album whose lofty goals are matched only by the depths to which it dives to darkness and despair. It is neither cheery nor uplifting music. Drama is deep, comedy is black and happy thoughts are eschewed.

Catchy pop hooks are buried in a grungy sludge of guitars, sound effects, strings, children's choirs (nothing spookier), you name it, all in minor keys generating haunting, atmospheric moods that go well with a grey day and a depressing novel by Kurt Vonnegut, perhaps. (Good is a big Kurt fan, naturally.)

Did I say this is a bad thing?

With impressive dynamics that allow each song to build to a gut-wrenching climax - check out Anti-Pop and The Rat Who Would Be King for full effect - the music sets the stage for Good's spew of angst, hitting those high notes better than ever since he quit smoking. Still, if anyone could be said to suffer vocally, Good is the guy.

Lyrics like this are typical: "If I roast marshmallows over their bodies do you think God will still find their souls? (Under the Influence) or "You pray for the sheep, I get closer to hell" (The Fall of Man). Rats, pigeons and pigs are some of the other beasts made large with rock 'n' roll metaphor here. Perhaps Good was listening to Pink Floyd's Animals while he was freaking out. The Audio of Being bears some sonic similarities to Floyd, also Radiohead. Definitely more dense and ambitious than anything the Good band has ever come up with.

With satirized targets that include authority, the media, the entire world - painted with the darkest colours available - this CD reminds me of the Smashing Pumpkins. At their best, they kicked out some memorable hard rock anthems. At their worst, they were whiny. What we have here is a little of both. What we have here is a rock musician who may be too smart for rock, yet who still understands the visceral appeal of rocking out for the sheer hell out it. Literally.