Singer Anika arrived in 2010 with the auspicious association of Geoff Barrow and the backing of his band BEAK>, which immediately set an unusually high expectation for an unknown singer. The self-titled album released mostly featured covers of classics, and was a nice introduction to a new talent - but it's been a number of years since that album and its follow-up EP. This has given time for Anika to step back and find another path to carry her musical abilities. The result is Exploded View, this time shifting away from her as a sole figure and emphasising more the creative collective that is the band that formed organically around her during rehearsals in Mexico.

The symbiosis between singer and band is immediately tangible from the opening 'Lost Illusions', where the band sets out a dark, juddering scape of snapping percussion and wavering guitars. The result sounds like a vertiginous path leading down into darkness, and it's Anika's glowing vocals that illuminate the way. Similarly on 'One Too Many' the singer teases "I've seen so many men go down this road again... I've seen so many crumble," though in her beguiling voice it sounds as much a challenge as a warning, and the plodding bass, playful synth and cutting guitars make it seem an attractive one to follow.

Exploded View morph into even more of a singular being on songs like the 'Call On The Gods' and 'Disco Glove', their sound jerking around like a misshapen mechanical entity with Anika at the head, her voice crackling through processed production. 'No More Parties In The Attic' touches on mental illness and escape, although the band's racket on this track is overwhelming, and seems to be trapping the singer's delicate voice in an inescapable cage of her own making.

When Exploded View explore their most poppy sides they mine similar depths of emotion to beloved bands like Lower Dens or Beach House. Between rigid, kraut-esque songs 'Orlando' stands out as it shimmies through on playful drums and synths, Anika's voice captivating as it glides moonlight. 'Stand Your Ground' exalts the lead vocals and the message of perseverance, while the intertwining vintage synth melodies build a majestic foundation and the guitar tones reach out like tendrils of affection. These elements come together best on the Can-influenced 'Gimme Something', where both the band and singer seem to be at their most expressive; plateaus of synth and echoing guitar give way to broad vocal melodies repeating the plea of the title.

The album finishes with 'Killjoy', a perfectly restrained-yet-cutting closer. The phrase "you're a killjoy, little boy," is repeated so simply that it can't help be barbed in its succinct summation. The viciousness of the little phrase is then amplified by the band, resonating as if from deep and carrying the song helplessly down into grey and murky climes. This is an ideal sign off for a band trying to showcase their own new sound; not overpowering, but a sharp, pointed and intriguing tune that will still be resounding after the track has finished.