Who would have thought mixing the mellow vibes of reggae with the dark edge of rock could produce a lingering taste of ginger?

Founded in a smoke-filled dorm room in East Los Angeles, Ginger Maker possesses all the pungent flavor of its namesake spice. Its debut album sounds like the soundtrack of an unpredictable, up-and-down, hazy trip. From the initial perspective, the 15 tracks of the self-titled album are a tangled web of instrumentation, vocals, images and colors. But there's something coherent in the midst of the chaos; a collage of scattered memories assembled together in a way that, from a distance, ultimately allows the work to rise and meet the glossy eyes of the onlookers. It's a mosaic that may not please everyone, but nevertheless does deserve praise for its ingenuity.

"We play a blend … a fusion," writes co-founder Dr. Walrus on the band's My Space site. "D and I are very much reggae/dub influenced … but also very eclectic, drawing from elements of dancehall, classic rock, blues and punk."

"Eclectic" may be one word to describe their music, but "psychedelic" may be a better choice. And although their album is deeply embedded in the grassy fields of reggae, it's their edgier elements that really make the album stand out from the dreadlocked crowd.

The album opens with "Lighta," a song that might, purposely or not, scare away unsuspecting listeners. It's not a bad track, however; it just sounds a little bit out of this world. It offers what is arguably the most unique sound on the entire album. Containing subdued, delayed vocals atop the dominant sounds of a variety of instruments, the song showcases the band's genre-crossing ability.

Those brave enough to stay tuned will find themselves pleasantly rewarded. The next track, "Weight of the Worlds," is, despite its clichéd title, delightfully creative. It's subtly upbeat, with a fluctuating instrumental tempo inventively contrasted to the ultra-low lyrics.

"Walls" starts off like a Bob Marley tune, but once the vocals start, its sound matches that of a Shaggy track. The biggest difference, however, is that Ginger Maker's lyrics are absorbed into the instruments. And while their words may possess more substance than "bangin' on the bathroom floor" it was the identification of that line that made Shaggy stand out. Despite the fogginess of the vocals, "Walls" is a fun track that's meant to be danced to.

Ginger Maker promises to keep its listeners dancing on hot coals. The band's live performances are guaranteed to be nothing less than sizzling excitement. They generated a lot of buzz with their recent tour, and are now on the road again, accompanied by Jack Johnson's band mate Adam Topol. They'll be stopping by Madison on Nov. 23, and plan to perform at The King Club — so make sure to wear good shoes to soothe your feet throughout a night full of dancing.

Ginger Maker is certain to fit in well in the progressive city of Madison. They consider themselves a 100 percent do-it-yourself endeavor, taking care of everything from marketing to scheduling themselves. Such independence produces an innocent garage (or, in their case, smoky dorm room) band feel that is sure to survive any imminent fame.

What makes this album such a success is the band's layering of unique sounds atop of even crazier ones and the garnishing-effect of the ridiculously low vocals that sound more like an instrument than an actual voice. By the middle of the album they have gone a little too crazy, and a few of their songs sound like a bunch of punks making up lyrics as they pound on random notes generated by a sound-carded keyboard.

However, the group proves themselves once again with "Pullover," a blissful track that just might be the album's best. The vocals, surprisingly dominant, are sung with an emphasized Jamaican accent, yet the instruments sound almost ska-like in composition. And it's just that juxtaposition that makes the track a success.

The album closes with "Big Tings Gwann," a track that is somewhat political. It's hard to understand what they're singing about except for the detection of the throbbing phrase "weapons of mass destruction."

With this overall solid effort, Ginger Maker proves it has plenty of talent, even if it gets a little misguided and layer-happy.