TUNABUNNY is, for now, less of a criminal element that it used to be. On last year’s self-titled debut album, you had to listen closely to hear the Blondie, to hear the Abba, to hear the pop. Some people just heard noise. Some people thought it was glorious. The album received rave reviews in some unexpected places, including Everett True in Australia (‘this music makes me deliriously happy’) and a top-5 end of year placing on the BBC’s website. They’ve been mentioned in the same breath as Sonic Youth, Kraftwerk, and Can. And this spring saw a successful tour of the eastern half of the United States. Now comes Minima Moralia. The album marks an unprecedented leap, like the one that took Nirvana from Bleach to Nevermind, like Pavement from those early EPs to Slanted & Enchanted. This year’s Tunabunny marks a shift from noise towards melody, from chaos towards structure, from indifference towards rapture. It signals a Tunabunny more pop, yet more intense; more accessible, yet more desperate; more comforting, and yet more uncomfortable. Minima Moralia takes the first album and ratchets up the melody, the chaos, the intensity, and the beauty. Even Southern Baptists can believe in their evolution.