Cocteau Twins was a Scottish band formed in 1979 by Elizabeth Fraser, Robin Guthrie and Will Heggie, replaced in 1983 by Simon Raymonde. They released eight studio albums, one collaborative release and several EPs and singles in their nearly twenty-year spanning career, which lasted until 1997. Although their constant evolution and innovation make it difficult to pin Cocteau Twins' music down genre-wise, Fraser's otherworldly voice - the elasticity of which sits comfortably alongside the likes of Kate Bush and Siouxsie Sioux - remains always at its center. An instrument in its own right, it blends seamlessly into the lush, ethereal layers of distorted guitars and synths. Fraser's indecipherable, often improvised lyrics also aid in furthering the band's mystique. Despite becoming well-regarded in certain musical circles, Cocteau Twins never achieved complete mainstream success. However, they have undoubtedly left a huge musical legacy, influencing both the shoegaze/dream pop movement of the early-to-mid 1990s and their contemporary revivals.

For some reason, I put off seriously investigating Cocteau Twins for years, but I finally spent the latter part of 2014 acquainting myself with their discography. It was an unforgettable experience. Their work is both incredibly consistent and incredibly varied, so there is truly a Cocteau Twins album out there for everyone. I jumped around their discography at random, but I think it would be most illuminating to approach it chronologically, since so much of the band's appeal is in their growth. At the same time, one could argue for just about any album as a good starting point, as long as you dive in somewhere. I've linked select individual songs throughout for a taste of what they're all about. But if you'd prefer to investigate further, do less clicking or avoid my rambling altogether, I've also put together a comprehensive Spotify playlist collecting all songs mentioned after the jump.


Cocteau Twins' first two albums, Garlands (1982) and Head Over Heels (1983), tread similar ground, despite the second being recorded by Guthrie and Fraser alone following Heggie's departure. In my opinion, they're a bit same-y musically, and neither holds a candle to their later, more polished works. They're still important albums, though, for taking the band's post-punk influences in a decidedly shoegaze-y direction - before shoegaze was even a namable phenomenon. Fraser's voice is rough around the edges but no less gripping as she wails and moans and growls atop the aggressively hazy mass of instrumentation that threatens but never manages to overpower her. A strong representative from Garlands is "Wax and Wane," which opens with a muscular bass line that is gradually built upon with discordant guitar, drum machine and Fraser's witchy, deliberately off-kilter vocals; the lyrics and melody are rather repetitive, but the layers turn the repetition complex and hypnotic rather than flat.


"Five Ten Fiftyfold" from Head Over Heels similarly uses repetition to its advantage, but its musical backdrop is more immense and impenetrable and string and horn samples supplement the "wall of sound" effect further. Overall, there's an urgency and assertiveness to these albums, courtesy of the band's youth, that is never quite replicated in their later discography.


Treasure (1984) is the sound of a band stepping confidently into its prime. Benefiting from Raymonde's contributions, it complements the dark, foreboding atmosphere from their previous releases with an ethereal lushness. It was also the first album of theirs I heard; it immediately hooked me and remains one of my favorites today. Treasure's darkness is spacier and chillier, more calculated and precise than the messy anguish of the band's early years. The sound and tempo is more varied, Fraser's voice is more versatile and her lyrics have become pure glossolalia, rarely even recognizable as English. All of this adds up to a literal treasure trove of standout tracks. Opener "Ivo" is suspiciously, gently acoustic for about twenty seconds before the familiar wall of electric instrumentation and Fraser's gutsy midrange wail seamlessly bridge the gap between new and old. Bearing the most resemblance to the band's earlier works are "Persephone" and "Pandora (For Cindy)," which feel like sister songs, the latter a more chilled-out and airy counterpoint to the former's aggression, voiced by Fraser's banshee-like near-yodels. Meanwhile, "Aloysius" is feather-light bliss cranked up to eleven: sweet enough to make your stomach ache, addictive enough to hook you for life. My current favorite, however, is "Lorelei." It's immediately catchy (that frosty synth line!), but its true insidiousness only begins to reveal itself through repeated listens, unfolding into a deeply sensuous whirlpool of sound.


The years directly following Treasure marked a period of, in my view, spotty yet necessary experimentation that would ultimately pay off in the band's best two albums. First, however, came Victorialand (1986) and The Moon and the Melodies (1987). While less consistent than Treasure, both contain compelling work. Victorialand was recorded by Fraser and Guthrie during Raymonde's brief departure for other projects and, as a result, is heavily stripped-back and mostly acoustic. While many of the songs, to my ears, come across as meandering and hookless, there's no lack of beauty, and the soothing effect of Fraser's glacial vocals and the sparse, icy instrumentation occasionally conjures up the perfect storm. "Oomingmak" brings to mind images of Fraser swaying in the middle of a vast, frozen landscape, crooning lullabies to no one while Guthrie's brooding guitar accompaniment echoes into the white abyss.


The Moon and the Melodies is a collaboration between Fraser, Guthrie, Raymonde and ambient composer Harold Budd. The instrumental tracks do very little for me, but the others are essential Cocteau Twins, sounding very much like their previous work with added ambiance and a richer sound palette. Fraser's vocal performance on "Sea, Swallow Me" is a masterclass in control and nuance.


1988's Blue Bell Knoll is divisive, but it's easily my favorite. From the start, the album surprises, as its opening duo, the title track and "Athol-Brose," comprises the most bizarre, unsettling and sinister (in a good way) music the band has ever made. The title track is especially compelling, built upon a spooky harpsichord motif and vocals so enchantingly supernatural they sound like they're running backward. However, the album quickly transitions from weirdly beautiful into straight-up beautiful, becoming warm, serene and dreamlike. Despite the occasionally drowsy tempos, the melodies are among the band's strongest and root themselves into the deepest crevasses of your consciousness until you're helpless not to fall irrevocably in love. Hearing "For Phoebe Still a Baby" is like sinking into a warm bath or, as the title implies, listening in on a mother soothing her child to sleep. The pair of songs that close out the album are also vital. Introducing some subtle electronic programming, "A Kissed Out Red Floatboat" glides along as smoothly and gently as, you guessed it, a boat floating down a lazy river. "Ella Megalast Burls Forever" begins similarly but injects more urgency, making it a proper album-closing masterpiece. As a whole, Blue Bell Knoll isn't Cocteau Twins' most immediate album, but, for me, it's certainly their most rewarding.


In 1990, Cocteau Twins went pop with Heaven or Las Vegas. The hooks are bigger and bolder than ever, the production is shinier and the lyrics occasionally make some level of sense, but not to fear: the experimental core of the band remains fully intact. "Cherry-Coloured Funk" eases you into the shift in sound; mirroring Blue Bell Knoll's mellowest moments, its effortlessly smooth and seductive atmosphere is guaranteed to make you giddy. The song serves as a gorgeous lift-off point for the real meat of the album, which arrives in the unabashed pop of "Iceblink Luck" and the title track. All of the recognizable Cocteau Twins elements are present but noticeably brightened: everything soars, from Fraser's vocals to the guitars to the more prominent percussion, and the choruses are positively intoxicating. But the band also shows off their restraint and subtlety in the simmering ballad "Road, River and Rail," which features a sexy, mature and very Scottish vocal turn from Fraser. However, it's the amazingly titled and appropriately epic closer, "Frou-Frou Foxes in Midsummer Fires," that finally combines all of these elements into one unforgettable track, transitioning with ease from hauntingly subdued verses into an explosive, drum-backed chorus.


In comparison, Four-Calendar Café (1993) is an incredibly understated affair. For me, it brings to mind Victorialand; though fuller in sound, its melodies are so nuanced as to initially seem non-existent. Even after several listens, I still have trouble telling several songs apart based on sound alone. However, such subtlety often leads to great beauty: "Know Who You Are at Every Age" is largely dependent on acoustic instrumentation and muted vocals but is still somehow hypnotizing, a sleepier relative of "Cherry-Coloured Funk." The tempo picks up with the buoyant and uplifting "Bluebeard," which is anchored by simplistic verses - "Aliveness, exploration, fulfillment, creativity" - that build into a shockingly cogent chorus: "Are you the right man for me? Are you safe? Are you my friend? Or are you toxic for me? Will you mistreat me or betray all my confidence?" Fraser and Guthrie's romantic relationship dissolved around this time, which may explain such uncharacteristically clear and confessional lyrics on Fraser's part. "Pur," more cryptically, follows this trend, with Fraser declaring simply, "I am not afraid of your anger," among more elusive lines. Though slightly formulaic of the band's past closers, it's one of the album's most gorgeous songs.


Milk & Kisses, Cocteau Twins' final album, arrived in 1996. It furthers the band's transition into a mellower sound but is a more varied and dark than its predecessor. The melodies are also much stronger, if still not as immediate and pristine as their best. Meanwhile, Fraser's vocal control and precision have become nearly inhuman: she sounds downright angelic and slides more effortlessly than ever into place alongside the other instruments, creating an atmosphere so heavenly it's nearly transcendent. "Tishbite" is a perfect example, soothing and serene until the end, when Fraser performs an impressive and seemingly improvised vocal run, as if the music itself has briefly possessed her. Later, "Ups" is playful and infatuating, centered upon Fraser's flute-like trills and chirps and the return of her delightfully gibberish lyrics. But things turn bleak and apocalyptic with "Seekers Who Are Lovers," which sits among the top tier of epic Cocteau Twins closers. Fraser's evocative midrange, which has been largely absent until now, is juxtaposed against nearly operatic background vocals. The galactic soundscape stretches out with subtle foreboding behind her, letting the enigmatic lyrics ("The breath of god in my mouth, a love you can taste;" "You are a woman just as you are a man") take center stage.


In 1997, the band was in the midst of recording when they broke up, leaving any potential material for their ninth album unheard. Since then, Raymonde and Guthrie have released solo material and, more famously, founded Bella Union, a record label that has released albums from the likes of Beach House, Fleet Foxes, Laura Veirs, Midlake and The Low Anthem. Last year, Raymonde's new musical project with vocalist Stephanie Dosen, Snowbird, released its debut album, Moon, which plays out like a close approximation of what Cocteau Twins might sound like today if they ditched the guitars for piano. Fraser has remained reclusive, frequently providing guest vocals for others but only releasing one single, 2009's "Moses," despite frequent rumors of an upcoming solo album. Luckily for new listeners, Cocteau Twins have dozens of EP, single, compilation and unreleased tracks outside their primary releases, some of them among the band's best work, which provide enough fuel for years of pleasurable listening.