Aircraft makes its musical home within the overlapping worlds of surf-rock and psychedelia, transmitting melodies that captivate as much as they disorient the minds of those who tune-in. Though the group hails from snowy Buffalo, NY, their music conveys an anomalous sound of sun-soaked euphoria peering through the druggy haze of Ty Skelton’s reverberating guitars and Justin John Smith’s ethereal vocals. It’s the sound that would be bouncing around the helmet of a spaceman who’s landed on the sandy coastline of an uncharted planet. He doesn’t question how he’ll be getting home—or why this beach looks strikingly similar to Buffalo’s outer-harbor—but instead lies down, puts his hands behind his head, and lets the rising tide carry him out into the unknown waters. His helmet covers his face, but you know he’s smiling to himself. He’s listening to Aircraft.