Folktronica is a term all too often bandied around in relation to singer-songwriters who own a Moog. Ellie Goulding, for example, has the tag associated with her – maybe there was some semblance of truth to that once upon a time, but the record execs have deftly tenderised all specks of folk or electronica from her repertoire with a mallet. Still, the label has stuck. Very rarely does an artist branded as folktronica actually live up to the title, which ought to represent combining the best elements of both folk and electronica to create something unique, worthwhile as a genre on its own (without ham-fistedly smooshing noises together like a toddler trying to fit a triangle block into a square hole). Like pop-punk and rap-metal before it, a genre cocktail can earn its own place amongst legitimate styles of music without coming off as pretentious or flimsy, if the pioneers build a solid reputation from the off. Things like thrash-discocore probably won’t get to that stage.

Floridian troubadours Hundred Waters are a band capable of redefining the genre. A big claim? Maybe. But folkatronic still has undoubted potential for transformation. The album’s swarms of digital blips buzz around harmonic synth pads and English ’60s folk vocals; there’s a dark delicacy to the sounds they weave, spawning something from glacier-cool electronics and a hearth-warm vocal dynamic; and just when you think they are leaning heavily upon folk (‘Gather’), they whip the tracks in a more synthetic direction (‘Me & Anodyne’) to ensure the continuation of their signature sound.

Opener ‘Sonnet’s mass of intertwining sounds channel contemporaries Stealing Sheep – with off-kilter acoustic guitars, a sparkling synth drone twinkling in the background and the raw pipes of singer Nicole Miglis. It’s minimalist – not skeletally so, but as with the art-music genre: offhand rhythms drop in and out of the music, slivers of noise creep up and recede as surreptitiously as they enter, barely recognisable amongst the tangled vines that Hundred Waters craft. By the time the track has ended, it’s a completely different being from the beginning. ‘Thistle’ whirrs and gyrates with throbbing bass and shards of jarring synth stabbing from all directions. Drums trip and lurch, the bass wobs gently in the background and a sole flute provides a counterpoint to the Lamb-esque vocals. The whole track screams trip-hop, and showcases the band’s creative talent.

Currently being compared to everyone from tUnE-YaRdS to Four Tet , as well as a multitude of other musicians, the band have even managed to impress one Mr. Skrillex enough for him to sign them to his burgeoning label, OWSLA. It seems like an unholy union, but let’s pray that the unusual differences work for the pairing – though considering they’ve already impressed crowds supporting the peculiarly-coiffed DJ, it’s perhaps unlikely that he’ll feel the need to let his hands wander into their sticky musical pie.

This debut is precise, cutting right to the nitty-gritty of what they want to do – and they know exactly what that is, even if the true meaning is sometimes obscured under layers of post-rock enormity. Every note, every beat is meticulously deliberate. The band are growing, taking the genre of folktronica and flying with it, turning it into something their own. It’s a brand of music shrouded in a haze of masterful electronica fuzz and ethereal folk, blended seamlessly into one sublime sound for a honestly original take on a waning genre.

Listen to Hundred Waters