The answer is a resounding "ehh" sound, and utter befuddlement. Bearpark have chosen to eschew all labels and make something so vastly unlike their previous material that it's hard to even feel right calling it a Bearpark album at all. Especially confusing is how all the elements are present in spades (in particular the raspy, desperate yells of lead singer Brian Humphreys and the unhinged solos of guitarist Reynolds Johansson) but somehow it sounds like another band altogether composed these songs and Bearpark is simply covering them.

Household Appliances kicks the album off with a promising garage-rock riff that sounds like an outtake from Bearpark's debut album, and a vocal line that kicks off almost immediately with a direct delivery reminiscent of They Might Be Giants. But in its short 2-minute runtime it doesn't express much of an idea and sputters to a stop before going anywhere interesting, leading directly into the fast-paced drums that open title track What Goes On. Of course by now this song (and album's only single to date) has seen its fair share of radio play, and it isn't a bit surprising considering the generally infectious rhythm and some of the most coherent and memorable lyrics of the band's catalogue. The deviation from the band's less radio-friendly roots is actually welcome, although the addition of an (uncredited) keyboardist feels entirely forced.

The album lumbers on after that with three completely forgettable songs, the mid-tempo rocker Various Colored Threads and the slow, sappy acoustic duo of Choke Them Out With Virtues and Helpin' My Uncle Like a Bastard, which are so unnecessarily similar in tempo and composition that I was, on first listen, completely unaware they weren't a single, overlong track. Luckily the last minute of Helpin' picks up the tempo and adds some layered synths to liven things up, but it's much too little too late, not to mention completely out of place.

Clever Librarian (feat. Tupac) comes plodding in after as a solid example of the cover-band sound the band has taken for this album, with a composition that weaves back and forth between sounding like a folksy new Mumford & Sons track and a swaggering-but-forgettable Rolling Stones B-side. It's not a bad track but you'll probably find yourself reaching for a copy of Sticky Fingers to play instead. Showing the band's bizarre sense of humor, rapper Tupac is entirely absent from the track despite its name, but short interlude/skit Looking For Snacks makes a note of this discrepancy as the track features the sound of drummer Phil Veer seemingly rummaging through a refrigerator while talking to his agent on the phone, asking "Can we get Tupac to guest on the album?" before learning, to his dismay, that the artist in question is long dead.

The first and only genuinely guitar-driven track on the album, NATO - No Action, Talk Only, launches into gear immediately with a rare instance of the band utilizing multiple guitars as guest axeman Tommy Filbilt (from sister band Wisconsin & Southern and Post-Grunge supergroup Bottom Rock) starts the track by rampaging a searing solo atop a beating drum line and driving arena-rock riff. It could be either a lost Scorpions or KISS classic for the first 45 seconds but NATO instead slows into a middle-fast-paced rhythm and starts to take on more of that depression-laden Bearpark sound just in time for the vocals to kick in. The song doesn't let a traditional structure hold it down, instead ditching “verse-chorus-repeat” in favor of a campfire-story-esque lyrical structure as Humphreys aggressively belts out a tale of a soldier's love that blossoms and tragically withers. A true highlight of the album, but its extended length sometimes feels unnecessary as Johansson and Filbilt's dueling guitar interplay drags on solely for the sake of time without leaving behind any memorable moments. NATO winds up being a high point for the album that could really shine with a producer who knows when to cut a track to size.

The last two tracks of the album immediately put the brakes on any hopes you might have had about the band's return to their rock-heavy style, however, as they instead present a muddy synth-heavy sound that strays much farther from the Bearpark we know than ever before. Instrumental track Exclamation of Disappointed Surprise starts with a heartbeat sound that maintains to the finish, gradually being smothered under increasingly dense electronic orchestration and a winding guitar line that doesn't seem to know where it wants to go. Under other circumstances this might be a fascinating experimental jam session but it leads seamlessly into the overly-synthetic Outbreak of Salmonella Every Five Minutes, which adds auto-tune (yikes) and a drum machine to the mix to fully push the album out of a rock mindset.

If you came into the album looking for a sequel Bearpark's last few albums you'll probably be disappointed, but for new fans or a music aficionado looking for something unique it might just scratch an itch. Unfortunately it just couldn't capture me the way their older music did, and I see myself skipping all of Souffles the next time I spin their discography.