Getting into an album by Cyril Cyril is being invited to a party where you thought you didn't know anyone, only to realize that this chap’s gal is your bro’s cuz, and leave with everyone's cell. Their music seems familiar because it's not deaf to its neighbors, in the broadest sense: Geneva, their lair, Europe, their playground as a duo, and the world, their grocery store. There’s plenty in those two heads, but just the two of them on stage. Cyril Yeterian fiddles with a polyglot banjo and catches his tangy voice on the fly with pedals. Cyril Bondi hauls around a huge drum kit -voted wackiest of the decade, covered in sonic shells and the occasional pad. And lo and behold, they're both singing, for our most happy confusion.