shrines

This is glistening, perfect pop music with a vein of cold, dark intelligence running through it. Utterly enchanting.

What separates this from the pack though, is that this psycho little workout is delivered with a uniformity of sound, a clarity of intent and a bushel of bold choruses to match the sexualised trauma of Megan James’ bold, bright and brilliant lyrics.

There is something so deft about this LP that you can’t help but feel that it is more than merely a by-product of its kooky genesis.

Without compromising their rustic, Grimm fairytale undertone, they’ve turned in a chromed, hi-tech pop album.

The record largely blurs together into a gloriously inscrutable haze, but certain songs resonate as sundry, singular experiences.

Ignore the undertones of James' lyrics and you'll find an album that provides a fair few moments of pop brilliance.

Shrines isn’t trying to capitalize on some moment where rapid hi-hats and deep bass mix with dream-pop vocals; it manipulates two elements to make something malleable, elusive, sexual.

Purity Ring has crafted an album in Shrines that stands head and shoulders above the works of their peers.

Shrines isn't perfect, but it's a bold debut and one that hints of potential greatness to come.

Shrines melds the blurry mesmerism of Tri Angle acts like Holy Other and Balam Acab with slow-pitched R&B reclines and the kind of artfully-constructed but spacious pop of 4AD's second phase heyday.

As it stands, Shrines is a fine debut, full of lighter-than-air synth pop that manages to be dark, sparkling, innocent, and knowing all at once.

The contrast between Purity Ring's two halves is special and compelling, but Shrines goes over best when Roddick's reverent sound and James' lustful fury synchronize and break you off properly, womb-stem-style.

Shrines sees this young Canadian duo tamper with generic electro to create often sparkling results.

The Canadian boy-girl duo’s debut is a whirl of delicate dream pop, fuelled by Corin Roddick’s chopped hip-hop beats and Megan James’ coquettish vocal stylings.

The inventiveness in James's vocals draws attention to the lack of that quality in Roddick's production, which grows clichéd after a while.

Purity Ring's approach to synth pop on Shrines blurs the line that separates dark and cute. While it brings the new LP some unique qualities, the overall experience of these eleven tracks is a bit one-dimensional.

Purity Ring is trying to do too much, and true to the less-is-more adage, the busier Shrines gets, the emptier it feels.

Shrines holds skyward a handful of some of the finest offerings Planet Pop can muster in 2012, yet as an “album experience” it ultimately fails to merit a new religion.

That sense of distance permeates the music: dark, mutable, likably repetitive  synth whirr that recalls artfully creepy bands like the Knife.

Both vocals and music here shimmer with a weird radiance... to dizzying, intoxicating effect.

Purity Ring suffers from the all-too-popular idea that pitch-shifted vocal samples and well-calibrated washes of reverb are enough to create haunting, enigmatic music, as opposed to crafting singular worlds of sound that convey the soul of their creator and resonate within the listener.

Catchy? Yes. Concerned with synthesis beyond reverb-leavened juxtaposition? Perhaps not.