There are a few things that musicians can buy. They can buy high quality studio time or buy time with engineers to clean up their tracks for a more commercial audience. They can even bring in a great children’s choir to add a lusher aesthetic. One thing that they can’t buy is sincerity so poignant it feels as though an almost intangible holy ghost of music seems to visit and leave the artists at will. Passion Pit wears their sincerity the way their fans wear their one-inch badge pins.

Michael Angelakos has a voice reminiscent equally of Tim Kinsella (cap n Jazz) and Muscles. The lyrics sit front and center while being gently washed with effects in a very clever and creative effort to make the song capable of being meaningful to some while still remaining hidden to the bubblegum dancers. With a combination of a live drummer and the samples and loops flanking him, it seems almost certain that this dichotomy was the intent. Here we have an uplifting record that can at once satiate indie rockers and unhinge underground dance parties.

If there is any drawback to be found it most likely lies in the ingredients. Even though there are eleven congruous songs throughout Manners, the same synthesizers and kids’ voices become almost expected as you round out the album’s final three tracks. “Sleepyhead” is still going to be a draw for Manners – and rightfully so: It has all the strengths a track needs to be an obvious single, and holding it back till almost the last second encourages inspection of the other tracks as newer strong options.

One of the most fascinating things to note is that Passion Pit represents the new attitude of the underground: You don’t have to be too cool for school to rule the pool. It will be interesting to watch how time treats Manners’ hopeful idealism years from now when (maybe) snobby music critics like me don’t need it so desperately.