Portugal. The Man were already 15 tracks deep into the recording of a new album when producer Danger Mouse came knocking. After the intense, emotionally draining process of creating their 2011 major label debut – the John Hill-helmed (M.I.A., Rihanna) In the Mountain in the Cloud – the band hoped to make a stress-free follow-up in a low-key studio in El Paso, Texas without a big name producer. Frontman John Gourley had traveled home – outside Wasilla, Alaska – to clear his head before returning to Texas to try and complete the tracking. But when Atlantic Records head Craig Kallman phoned, offering a session with Danger Mouse (aka Brian Burton), the temptation was too strong not to explore. Gourley flew to New York City the next day.

More than a year later, Portugal. The Man are about to release their seventh album, Evil Friends, a 12-track firecracker of jilted, heavy, psychedelic pop that happens to be their best record yet.

Depending on where you drop the needle on Portugal. The Man’s career, you’ll hear a heavy classic rock act, a floating Flaming Lips Jr., a group of theatric prog-rock geeks or a pack of dance punks. Since their 2006 debut _Waiter: “You Vultures!” _ , they have released an album per year through In the Mountain in the Cloud without retracing their steps.

“I couldn’t handle being in a ‘rock’ band. We couldn’t be Jet or Kings of Leon,” says Gourley. “The pressures to make the same record every time – if you write those same songs again, you’re fucked. Nobody will hold on to it.”

Formed from the remnants of Gourley and bassist Zachary Carother’s punk band Anatomy of a Ghost in 2002, Portugal. The Man’s debut came off as taut electro-punk. But with
each album, the band evolved more than most acts do during their entire career. Sometimes their output even outpaced them.

“We were already in the studio with John the day American Ghetto was released,” remembers Gourley of their fifth album in 2010. “We totally forgot it was coming out.”

It isn’t a surprise that Evil Friends is another left turn for Portugal. After scrapping all but two songs from the El Paso sessions, the band started with a blank slate when they entered the studio with Burton, though they were well-versed with the producer’s work – notably the twisted pop of Gnarls Barkley and Gorillaz.

Gourley says Burton was a “true collaborator.” “In the band, whoever does it best does it. I don’t need to play guitar on every track because I’m the guitarist. I grew up building houses. You work with everyone – the head carpenter, the laborer who brings you the nails and the wood. You’re all working for the same thing.”

Creating the album from the ground up “was like raising a child,” says Carothers. “You can raise it how you want to, but it’ll do whatever it wants to. You can only watch and hope it doesn’t get out of hand.”

The process of creating Evil Friends did get out of hand, in the best way possible. Bringing Burton’s skewed pop-savvy to the band’s shape-shifting whims created a sinister, crackling pop album. If it’s a fireworks display in hell, then it’s also simultaneously Portugal’s most accessible and creative album. Gourley says that Burton reined in the band’s increasingly meandering tendencies for crisp, tight tracks.

“As soon as we’d get to a point where the songs were dragging, he’d say, ‘What the fuck is this?’” laughs Gourley. “To sit down and try to make a song work from hook to hook was a challenge, but this is our catchiest record.”

Though Evil Friends is Portugal. The Man’s catchiest album, it never sacrifices any of Portugal’s weirdo cred. On “Purple Yellow Red and Blue,” Gourley crows, “I just wanna be evil” over rubber band-elastic guitars and a deep grooving march beat. The title track (and first single) begins with an acoustic dirge before exploding into the devil spawn of Ziggy Stardust.

The two-year wait for Evil Friends, a first for the band, led some of the group’s longtime fans to fret that their hyperactive heroes were slowing down. Carothers is quick to point out that’s not the case.

“If something’s not right or could be better, we’re not going to put it out to make our quota. We write and record songs and never put them on the next record. We always end up writing something we like more.”

It is anyone’s guess what Portugal’s next move will sound like. “My horrible memory and ADD come in handy,” Carothers muses. “We’ll never write the same song twice. When we tour, I can’t get onstage and say, ‘This is my favorite city, thank you so much!’ I don’t say it when I don’t mean it. It’s the same way with the music.”