A press release for Vanishing Twin jokes that the band would be “galactic citizens”, were it only possible. The eye-catching joke isn't far off: a British band in theory, in reality, no two things in the ever-flexible collective seem that they'd go together, and they wouldn't have it any other way. None of the band members share a homeland or language, and yet together, they've discovered a level of harmony in music sought after by so many, discovered by so few.

Arguably more of a living, breathing unit than a band, Vanishing Twin nearly bring to mind the stories of Krautrock acts that threw restraint to the wind in favor of ceaseless creation and exploration. Minus, you know, the occasional orgies. The band came together inspired by a mutual interest in anything different, desiring to cast together disparate ideas into a functional whole. While their debut album, the fittingly titled Choose Your Own Adventure, did indeed boast a rare, genuine sense of intrigue, they've truly come into their own here, on their sophomore LP.

Herein the “galactic citizens” remark comes back into play. Listening to The Age of Immunology, it's not at all hard to imagine first track, 'KRK (At Home in Strange Places)' begin to waft through the air departing some deep space freighter onto seedy space port, alien traders hawking wares as unheard of smells drift into your nostrils. Think I'm overdoing the imagery? Just press play.

If there's one thing that simply, and immediately, sets Vanishing Twin's work apart, it's how wholly unlike anything else it sounds, especially in our current moment. The music feels akin to a pointed resistance to our world in 2019, as nations tighten borders and recoil in fear, The Age of Immunology only expands ever-outward.

The album boasts vocals in all the languages of its creators, and considering the band collectively hails from Belgium, Italy, Japan, France, and America, it makes for a true, if you will, melting pot of a record. All the same, it somehow feels immediate and cohesive. Vocals are recorded perfectly, seeming to drift in and out of hiding from the quirky future sounds of the instrumentation, creating a sumptuous layer of entwining sound that would make even Brian Wilson envious. Paradoxically, the songs feel gleefully unrestrained, the product of two processes, at once at odds and in sync: freewheeling improvisation and painstaking arrangement.

Such is the brainchild of Vanishing Twin, melding ideas that wouldn't normally be anywhere near one another into a ambitious, boundless monument. Naturally, this isn't to say Immunology is without a certain lingering dread. Behind every lulling groove and thick vocal, there's a sense of fear and worry. After all, the album was recorded to speak of a world the band see as vanishing, a world in which the loving, unrestrained sharing of foreign (literally and figuratively) ideas is still possible. The Age of Immunology honors a potentially fading ideal. Should it all come crashing down, it's hard to think of a more fitting, colorful, and ambitious tribute than the one Vanishing Twin have given us here.