A Sunny Day in Glasgow – Ashes Grammar (2009) [Mis Ojos] // Grade: A-

With the onslaught of My Bloody Valentine/Cocteau Twins-inspired albums dropping right now (many under this recent “nu-gaze” blanket), you’d think the floaty-twee optimists A Sunny Day In Glasgow would get lost in the shuffle, no matter how acclaimed their 2007 debut. And maybe they would have, had they simply rehashed the bedroom-recorded Scribble Mural Comic Journal. But Ashes Grammar, the Philly band’s long-anticipated sophomore release, is such a step up in terms of both concept and sophistication, it outshines not only their debut, but nearly every similar release of the past three months.

Because honestly, Ashes Grammar is a completely different thing. Let’s call it disco drone: a real Alice-down-the-rabbit-hole sort of album that turns both happy pop and sound exploration totally sideways. Mastermind Ben Daniels, along with sisters and vocalists Lauren and Robin, mix kicky, dance-worthy singles like “Close Chorus” and “Ashes Maths” with piles of underwater-gorgeous interlude, a technique that might feel like filler if it weren’t so hypnotic. You need all that ethereal noise to set up the moments where everything locks in—that each proper song sneaks up behind you is the most consistently incredible part of the Ashes Grammar dynamic. Combine that with the seriously haunting vocals and vast, shimmery production (this thing was recorded in an empty dance studio, after all), and you’ve got a sweet lucid dream of an album.

All that said, you’ve got to be in the right frame of mind to handle so much floaty tinkering. Ashes Grammar is best experienced under full immersion; skip too many tracks and you’ll lose the tenor of the entire thing. But once you’ve lost yourself in it, it’s nearly impossible to dig yourself out (and really, you probably won’t want to). Truly one of the most beautiful albums recently released—and that’s coming from someone easily annoyed by most things so optimistic.

- Rue Sauvage