Songs about love, lust, longing, and desperation are nothing new. These are tried and true subject matters that work well because they’re something that, to one degree or another, we can all relate to. But every now and again a band comes along and tightly grabs hold of these basic premises, shaking and twisting them in magnificent ways. With their self-titled debut, after three years of touring and video-making since releasing a five-track EP called Bedrooms in 2008, Brooklyn-based Xylos have, through stark romanticism and composition, done exactly that.

Xylos is a record that brings together and animates a vast assortment of sounds both complex and familiar, breathing new life into each individual strand of its genetics. Monika Heidemann doesn’t just sing on this record, she rakes herself across the hot coals of passion, both fondly recalled and forgotten, requited and unfulfilled. On “Darling Dearest” she plays the submissive role, calling out to her lover in desperation as jolts of electronics and percussion close in around her from every which way. And as great as this record sounds, with intricacies billowing from every track, its really these evocations that consistently propel this thing forward. Though she displays extreme longing on “Darling Dearest,” she later sings “I want to stay in bed all day alone” on “Second Order”, coos seductively across urgent instrumentation on “Not Enough,” and still manages to power her way through the album’s tail end with unrelenting power despite having run herself through the emotional wringer.

Though the griping emotion is its biggest selling points, there are really countless qualities to love about this album. Fans of shoegaze will find familiar artifacts sprinkled throughout. The Pains of Being Pure at Heart, Cocteau Twins, Kate Bush, and Malory have all left an impression on this band and this album. But there’s also the kind of sexual tension dished out by The xx and enough big-time pop melodies and moments to add variety and extend reach. “Mission,” for example, is a decadent anthem about innocence that bursts the album open behind exploding percussion and the soft howl of a powerful chorus. In an album full of impressive highs, this is among the tallest peaks.

As debuts go, this is about as good as they come. Xylos is the kind of record you can get lost in, either by getting entangled in the well-conceived songwriting, being swallowed by the saturating instrumentation that unveils a new dynamic with each additional spin, or both. Truly, this lascivious, refreshing collection of songs deserves undivided attention — and lots of it.