The Orielles journey out of this world on Disco Volador

The album, literally “flying disc” in Spanish, is an allusion to the so-called vehicle that will take you to infinity and beyond. With Disco Volador, the West Yorkshire quartet take you on an ambitious voyage that is more sentient-based than geographical. Their newest full-length effort transcends not just space and time, but feelings and moods, decades and textures, boundaries and expectations. It’s unafraid to explore the limits of their musicianship, along with a wonderfully weird, new universe that challenges the space-time continuum as we know it.

Having developed a reputation for their glittering, synth-pop offerings that toed the lines between ’90s jangle-pop and shoegaze, The Orielles have taken it upon themselves to challenge what it means to be a modern band. There is a glaringly obvious ’80s new wave sheen across the record, driven by lead vocalist and bassist Esme Dee Hand Halford’s grooving bass and Alex Stephen’s unreserved keyboard work. But alongside come elements of funk, jazz (there’s a saxophone!) and soul, all highlighted by “Bobbi’s Second World”, a track that would have found a home in the electronic movement born from the ashes of 1970s punk.

At the core of The Orielles’ sound sits Halford’s buttery vocals, her melodies the most obviously pop aspect of the record, capturing a careful midpoint of sugary, candied pop with more adventurous disco and funk inklings in “Come Down On Jupiter”. It’s all unfamiliar, strange territory until the chorus kicks in: “With my faith behind my back / Yes, last Thursday I flew in / Do the footprints make it clearer?”

Disco Volador feels like a journey into a world undiscovered, without ever feeling too alien.