Sick of Brooklyn indie rock? Meet Staten Island's Cymbals Eat Guitars, a recent export of New York's least lauded borough. Joseph D'Agostino, the band's frontman, guitarist and songwriter, steeps his songs in a rich, swirling cacophony that slumps into feedback-fuzzed valleys and explodes into ear-splitting peaks. The band's topographic sprawl plucks with equal ease from Arcade Fire's epic song structure and Modest Mouse's raucous intensity. Cymbals Eat Guitars' atmospheric soup — already culling comparisons to Built to Spill and Broken Social Scene — climaxes and calms in sweeping, manic-depressive mood swings. Fraught with wide-eyed idealism (D'Agostino is a mere 20 years old), Cymbals Eat Guitars' debut, Why There Are Mountains, comes laden with the earnestness of an excited kid packing 12 fledgling melodies into one song. Raw, cathartic tracks such as "...And the Hazy Sea" sound like head space: gauzy, tattered and decadent.