Who else is bummed about the Blood Brothers splitting? No one will ever be able to fill their shoes, but at least with Moros Eros emerging within the last year, that giant void of dancey, spastic post-punk isn't quite so wide.

While the Blood Brothers ascended on the strength of their ornamental and abstract lyricism, letting dischordant shrieks erupt freely throughout their songs, Moros Eros relies on a much more controlled inflection, utilizing melody in lieu of verbose rhetoric and opting for rather plebian musings hinging on topics of heaven and hell. But still, there are those moments, like in the angular "Safety Net," that the syncopated rhythm and choppy guitars remind me of some of the less hardcore moments on Crimes and Young Machetes. Anyway, to the point...

Jealous Me Was Killed By Curiosity is especially impressive because it has come on the heels of the band's unreasonably good debut. 2006's I Saw the Devil Last Night, and Now the Sun Shines Bright was a delightfully unique post-punk album that didn't sacrifice much accessibility on its way to a challenging and peerless sound. And amazingly, this time around, Moros Eros has evolved without losing any of the qualities that made their debut so unique and memorable. Side by side, Jealous Me doesn't seem to be quite as hard-hitting as I Saw the Devil Last Night, but that may be due to a production job that left the drums sounding slightly padded in songs like "Old Friend" when compared to last year's stuff like "Make Me an Angel." Also, singer Zach Tipton reveals much more melody on tunes like the gorgeous opener "Quit, You're Being Thoughtless" and the dreamy punk drifter "Lows and Highs" than the shoutier At the Drive-In-styled vocals of I Saw the Devil Last Night.

Though the digitized rock of "Pride and Joy" is probably the least musically agreeable track on Jealous Me, its lyrics paint a self-critical perception of the apathy that plagues Generation X: "On the corner where the whores subside / In the alley where the homeless sleep at night / When I turn on the television / I take a bottle of those prescription pills / To make me feel just a little bit happy / And hide me from the ugly truth that will forever be haunting me."

If there's one thing I can generalize about hating, it's long songs. Yet Moros Eros pull off the 6:11 "The View From Below" with seemingly substantial ease, as they bounce from jangly space waltzes to racing punk pulsations multiple times throughout the song.

Consistently underrated and cast off due to any number of trivial associations, Moros Eros are virtually batting 1.000. They've followed up a stunning debut with one equally wonderful, though totally different. For the second time in two years, Moros Eros have delivered one of the best albums of the year.