As he set out to scale Mt. Everest, Edmund Hillary had no idea what the future might hold. Certain death? Instant fame? Nissan commercials? The possibilities were endless — not unlike the array of sonic options Everest presents at its concerts. The trio, born in late-’90s Wichita and bred in postmillennial Lawrence, goes into fits of postpunk rock between stops and starts of samples, loops and keyboards. Like the Flaming Lips and Super Furry Animals, Everest can be a bit disconcerting for anyone seeking a linear path from start to finish. But the tonal bliss that emerges from these dynamic, if discombobulating, rhythms can take its songs places even Everest and its fans have yet to fully explore.