To paraphrase the Stone Roses, everyone just wants to be adored. It's human nature. But Mike Patton and his three comrades in Tomahawk probably aren't the kind of people you want to want you. On Oddfellows — Tomahawk's fourth album, its latest after a six-year dry spell — the sinister, charismatic, ridiculous, and versatile Patton meanders between moods while instruments scratch and polish an erratic form of experimental alt-rock/metal we'll lovingly call prowlercore. Here's a primer on some of Oddfellows' lovey-dovier lyrics: "Baby, let's play dead/ I've got a hole in my head," "I owe you a love song/ For everything I done wrong," and "You rub me so wrong, rub me so wrong/ Please keep your clothes on, keep your clothes on." Should you receive a love letter containing any of these phrases, you'd best retain the authorities on speed dial. Happy Valentine's!