Of the many experimental pop bands that have recorded, at one time or another, under the umbrella of the Elephant 6 collective, Beulah remains one of the least known and one of the best. That's impressive on two fronts. Bands like Neutral Milk Hotel, The Apples In Stereo, Elf Power, Olivia Tremor Control, and The Minders aren't exactly household names, but those who have heard them know just how good they can be. An even-better follow-up to Beulah's excellent 1999 album When Your Heartstrings Break, the new The Coast Is Never Clear features the San Francisco band running through a set of songs every bit as lovely as they are unpredictable, with tracks as likely to throw in a banjo as a Moog. Beulah's trademark is its ability to wed catchy songs to an expansive sound. Fronted by chief songwriter Miles Kurosky and made instantly recognizable by the trumpet work of Bill Swan and the twin keyboards of Bill Evans and Patrick Noel, The Coast Is Never Clear features a seven-piece band filled out by more than a dozen guests. For all its expansiveness and eclectic instincts, Beulah never loses its identity on Coast, which works from the homebase of '60s pop while suggesting an array of other sources. "Punk rock was my first girl / she left me a scar so we're not through yet," Kurosky sings on "Silver Lining." If traces of punk are hard to come by, more examples of that wry humor aren't: Kurosky isn't afraid to use a Stephin Merritt reference as a punchline. "I heard he wrote you a song, but so what / some guy wrote 69," go a pair of lines from "Popular Mechanics For Lovers." Coast stops at a mere 12 tracks, but 57 more would have been welcome.