This is the sixth album for New Jersey based Bleachers and I'm pretty amazed I haven't heard of them before.

The album opens with “sideways” and I was struck immediately by a feeling I don’t get all too often, the sense of being instantly at home with something. The track begins with a wonderfully bleak wall of sound, underpinned by what I think is a bell, or something very close to it, chiming steadily throughout. Then the vocals arrive, perfectly in keeping with the music, understated, warm, and completely enveloping.

The next track, “the van”, initially sounded to me like it sampled some sweeping orchestral passage from an old soul record. But before long, that flourish fully reveals itself as the foundation of the song’s arrangement. And just as I was adjusting to that surprise, the vocals shift into something close to a hip hop or rap-style delivery. Maybe I haven’t landed on the perfect comparison, as that genre isn’t exactly my forte, but you’ll get the gist when you hear it. It’s a strange fusion of sounds, even throwing harmonica into the mix, yet it’s eclectic in a way that works brilliantly.

And maybe I shouldn’t be surprised by this point, but when “we should talk” opens, my mind immediately goes to 80s electronic music, something in the vein of The Human League. Then the vocals arrive and steer things somewhere far more country-infused than synth-pop. The synths sit low in the mix, but they quietly propel the track forward alongside a really satisfying drum accompaniment. On paper it sounds like a combination that shouldn’t work, but in practice you can’t help but bob your head or tap your toes along with it.

I’m beginning to feel like the band are messing with me now. “you and forever” opens with an almost classical a cappella vocal that’s soon joined by more traditional instrumentation, giving the song its momentum. Even as the arrangement builds, those vocals remain slightly buried in the mix while somehow still acting as the driving force behind the track. I realise that probably sounds slightly unhinged written down, but once you hear it, you’ll understand. This is a truly remarkable song, that builds incredibly.

I was going to stop there, but listening to this album is a bit like playing pass the parcel by yourself. Every time you think you’ve reached the end, another layer comes away and reveals something else worth marvelling at.

When “dirty wedding dress” began, my first thought was The Carpenters, but there’s barely time to settle into that comparison before a saxophone enters the mix and the song opens up into something entirely different. As it gathers momentum, it starts to feel like some strange but inspired collision between Van Morrison and Bruce Springsteen.

“take you out tonight” continues in a similar spirit, opening almost like a spoken diatribe before the rhythm kicks in and the track properly takes flight. Once again, this is one of those songs that practically forces movement out of you. Foot tapping, head bobbing, the whole thing. There’s something strongly reminiscent of Hothouse Flowers, particularly their song Don't Go.

That comparison feels even more fitting on “i can’t believe you’re gone”, which carries a definite Gaelic tinge. It’s mostly present in the instrumentation, though there’s also a subtle trace of it in the vocal delivery. It suits the track perfectly, because this is very much a lament, a reflection on loss and absence.

A couple of fascinating instruments open “dancing”. One sounds very much like a hammered dulcimer, while another bowed instrument creates a subtle droning effect underneath. By this point, though, I’ve learned not to get too attached to the way these songs begin, because they rarely stay where they start. Sure enough, the track evolves into something more acoustic guitar-led, while those low a cappella vocals slowly build beneath the surface, adding momentum without ever overwhelming the song.

With “she’s from before”, I think this is the first time I’m not genuinely surprised by where the song goes. It’s an almost traditional arrangement of guitar, snare, and light strings. That probably sounds like criticism after everything I’ve written above, but it really isn’t. In fact, there’s something refreshing about briefly settling into familiar territory. It gives you a moment to pause and reflect, which at this stage might say as much about the reviewer’s brain as the music itself.

Then we’re straight back into left turns again with “i’m not joking”, which opens with a harpsichord. Once again, it’s introduced almost as a playful flourish before sinking deeper into the arrangement, but it’s exactly this sort of inventive detail that makes the album so engaging. The keyboard work feels less like a nod to The Beatles themselves and more specifically to Billy Preston. The return of the harpsichord at the end is a particularly satisfying touch.

And finally there’s “upstairs at els”, which closes proceedings with one of the album’s more direct pop moments. It feels perfectly placed as a closer, carrying a real sense of resolution while still leaving the listener uplifted by the time the album ends.

This is a stellar album, with so many tracks delivering something unexpected. It’s a creative smorgasbord of ideas and experimentation. To my ears, the album constantly feels like it’s pushing into new territory, though I suspect for the band this is simply their natural creative language. It’s a very different normal from the one I’m used to, and I absolutely love it.

Maybe this is what Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band felt like to listeners when it first arrived in 1967. A band enjoying themselves, experimenting freely, and pushing at the boundaries of what popular music could sound like. At the time, plenty of people simply didn’t understand it, yet now it’s almost universally regarded as a classic. This album carries that same spirit of fearless experimentation, but it’s underpinned by such strong songwriting and creative confidence that it works at every turn.

On the one hand, I’m completely blown away by this album. On the other, it’s just made deciding my album of the year infinitely more difficult.