Fans have come to expect a particular brand of strange from Carey Mercer and his fellow Frogs. So the disjointed pop songs and lunatic rock suites on Tears of the Valedictorian aren’t as much red-faced surprises as comforting reassurances that last year’s arty teaser EP, The Future Is Inter-Disciplinary or Not at All, was an aberration. Here, Mercer is still the straitjacketed poet, the manic preacher in the pulpit, and sprawling tracks like “Bushels” are still nine glorious minutes of caterwauling reverb and stiff-armed drumming.