The West Coast's weirdest hidden-treasure trio, Bronze, has plied their molten composite of serpentine metro-gnomic drumming, oscillator raga, hash-oil free verse, and pendulum bass patterns for seven shaded years, but sonic documentation remains sparse. The new decade, thankfully, has seen them reversing this deficit, first with 2011's Copper LP, and now with World Arena, which unfolds another octagon's worth of their signature spellbound, smoke-ringed, psych-fusion explorations.