Lycia’s latest single finds them dipping a little deeper into synth-pop, and the result is excellent.

The iconic goth/darkwave outfit switches up their sound while still hewing close to what made them so great in the first place.

The band’s 1987 magnum opus is a dark, haunting album that still captivates after more than three decades.

The album’s more atmospheric pieces provide a perfect example of Projekt’s “vintage” darkwave sound.

When Lycia hits their stride, all of the pretense and bombast works entirely in their favor, and the music feels more comprehensive and accomplished than portentous.

Conjures up every cliché of goth/darkwave music… and then easily transcends them.

Listening to these recordings, you get a real sense of just how overwhelming this group must be to experience live.

Lycia is probably one of the few modern bands to truly capture and continue the sounds captured on such seminal discs as Faith and Pornography without sounding like mere copycats.

A real gem that hasn’t lost it’s energy after almost a decade, and whose impact will probably never fully be known.

Because of the album’s truncated recording, it’s pretty raw and unfinished in places, more a work in progress suspended in time than anything else.

This self-titled album certainly represents a much-needed step in the right direction, displaying a newfound confidence and sense of freedom.

This album is a reminder that no good thing can remain forever, and that we ought not to take them for granted while we have them around.

A microcosm of The Cure’s entire career, highlighting nearly every rise and fall, every stylistic direction, every bold experiment, and every failure the band has ever had.

4 discs might seem like a little much for any band, but given Dead Can Dance’s diverse, extensive catalog, it feels just about right.

A monolithic album that must be appreciated for its sheer breadth and scope, and moments of heart-wrenching beauty.

As for actually sitting and listening through the entire album… though it is quite beautiful, this could be intimidating.

If you’re of a sensitive disposition, you won’t like this album. Trust me.

Call it brilliant, call it wrong, but it will certainly cause listeners with a more delicate palate some pause.

An honest, sincere, and moving tribute to one of the most beautiful seasons of the year.

So for all you cats whose Portishead tapes popped as a result of repeated listens, slide this in and you won’t miss a beat.