The problem with "never judge a book by its cover" is that everyone does it. Party Box? Written in neon? With a space ship? It must be techno/house/dub (and probably has a robot for a singer.)
But no, it's not what you're thinking. Reaching into a deep bag of tricks I didn't even know existed, the Seattle three-piece is gritty, raw, poppy and oh so great. Think a slow-motion version of Kings of Leon from eight years ago. Before Caleb cut his hair and met The Black Lips. The opener, "Amelia," even sounds like a B-side from KoL's Because of the Times: fast guitar plucking, harmonious/slightly quiet "wahoooo's" and loose singing with a heart of grunge.
The real standout, "Pineapple Footsteps," has the guitar soul of a late '70s punk band and is highlighted by fast drum rolls and a smidgen of surfy, So-Cal vocals. From "Crab Song," which turns things up a notch and introduces some playful, rockabilly vocals, to "The Tease," which delves even more into the garage-grunge-beach vibe, Party Box continuously surprise.
But you want to know the best part? The timing. This album is dropping right as summer is in it's beginning peaks, and begs to be played while driving anywhere. (But preferably to the beach. Or somewhere with a lot of sun. And Caleb Followill.)