The Clean’s gift to indie punk was snappily drummed, gorgeously scuzzed krautrock pop scaled to human size by three male Moe Tuckers trading vocals like they just wandered in from the beach. But the band’s first studio album in eight years takes the Farfisa-surf luminescence of 2003’s must-own, career-spanning Anthology deeper into psychedelia, for good (the sublime Go-Betweens harmonies of “In the Dreamlife You Need a Rubber Soul”) and ill (the sub-Bongwater satire of “Are You Really on Drugs?”). “Asleep in the Tunnel” recaptures the old magic — exotic yet casual.
