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Vinyl LP pressing. Benzene means nothing and everything. The title of French Cassettes' new album is not an allusion to the dangerous fossil fuel byproduct, nor is it a nod to the anti-anxiety drug Benzos. As a child, Scott Huerta's birth name-Lorenzo-transformed into Wren, then Renzo. Before long, he was Renzo Benzo. By the age of four, the family had largely settled on Benz, which is what they still call him today. Benzene, Huerta's own abstraction, was chosen on a whim. "I wish I had a better explanation," he admits. "I guess I should have Googled it first." The self-deprecation is classic Benz, as is this crossing of the wires between the flippant and the deeply meaningful. There's a lot in a name, after all, and even more in a name that only those dearest to you call you by. This sort of understatement is all over Benzene (the album), in big ways and small ones. It's one reason the San Francisco band's third album holds up so well to repeated listens: It contains a world of references, quotes and handmade word-puzzles that only Huerta can fully unpack.