As fitting at a basement show as it is under the disco ball, the music of Constellations is a protean thing. While clearly drawing from many of the same sources that fuel the current dance-punk lemming march, the group molds jarring guitars, pixilated noise and logarithmic beats into a much more slippery sound. Its stunning debut, Sistering, careens between laptop and agitprop, rattling vertebrae even as it leaks a chilly futurism; somewhere in the middle, singer Zak Brown warbles like Jello Biafra drunk-dialing Morrissey. Trying to calculate Constellations' arc through the cosmos would be a crapshoot, but one thing is certain: It's a band with a luminous future.