On the Mountain Goats’ latest album, subjects of the 12 songs are either happily, defiantly damaged (“Amy aka Spent Gladiator 1” and “Counterfeit Florida Plates”) or simply resigned to the fact that “damage” is synonymous with “reality” (“Night Light”). With lyrics like, “The loneliest people in the whole wide world are the ones you’re never going to see again” and a jaunty rhythm, “Harlem Roulette” is nihilism you can clap to. Mountain Goats’ main man John Darnielle has a nasal, wobbly legged warble—an acquired taste, to be sure, but one worth acquiring. Few artists can make suffering sound so inviting. (M. Brianna Stallings)