When you’re exploring new music, occasionally you come across love-at-first-site records—albums that immediately latch themselves to your psyche when you first hear them. Then, there are slow burns—records that take a little more exploration, but fully envelop you in their sonic arms.

Then, there are great, unknowable beasts: eldritch albums with a hundred eyes and a thousand tentacles that never stop swirling long enough for you to get a good look at them. You are left only with a roaring, gaping impression of the unearthly monstrosity. Every glance uncovers additional layers, peeling themselves away endlessly to unrecognizable shapes until it isn’t the album you thought you listened to the last time.

Mirrored has been one of these albums for me: an ancient, Lovecraftian record that changes color and shape with every repeated listen. But after a decade of trying to wrap my head around it, I’ve finally embraced the madness.

Though Mirrored was experimental rock band’s debut full-length, they had already built themselves a reputation with their two previous EPs, confusingly titled C and B (where was A? Why were they released out of order? The world may never know). By the time came to be aware of them somewhere around 2009 and 2010 through analecta‘s Pat Quigley, those two EPs and this single full length had already cemented their status as a mathy monstrosity that was worth every ounce of attention directed their way.

Even with a three more full lengths and countless remixes under their belts,  Mirrored remains the most impressive and monstrous release in their catalog. Songs transform completely in the space of a few measures. Effect-drenched guitars and synthesizers are often indistinguishable from one another. Rhythms are copied, shifted, and pasted, completely changing the feel.

The group’s thousand tentacles reach out and grab elements from every genre and influence they can get a hold of. The most obvious comparison is that Mirrored is a Tortoise record played at double speed, but that doesn’t quite communicate the depths of their sonic palette. There are shades of Bitches Brew in “Tonto.” The intro of “Rainbow” sounds almost like rockabilly until it bursts into a mad dash of skittering drums and stabbing, pitch shifted chords. The rapidfire “Ddiamondd” sounds like someone sapped Bloc Party of their pop sensibilities and set it ablaze.

This is also the only Battles record to feature a full time vocalist, though that voice is often twisted and mangled beyond recognition. This is the most plainly seen on “Atlas,” in which Tyondai Braxton’s voice is run through a Digitech Whammy, his foot rocking in time to alternate the octave of his voice on the quarter notes. In this way, he feels like the vocalist counterpart to Minus the Bear’s David Knudson, who plays his effects pedals as much as his guitar.

With a running time of an incredibly dense 52 minutes, it can be tempted to drink from this stream sparingly, cherry picking the songs at your leisure.  And while each of these tracks is wonderful on its own, this is fully appreciated as a whole—especially as songs often borrow from one another. The wordless vocal line from the dark, almost hip-hop “Leyendecker” appears again in the manic and triumphant “Snare Hanger,” though wrung out and wrapped around a different key and modality. Closer “Race: Out” is the Bizarro world version of opener “Race: In,” structured in reverse and played in a minor key. Penultimate track “Tjj” builds around a slower version of “Race: In’s” guitar arpeggio.

But for all of its enormity and unknowable depths, Mirrored is one of the finest records I’ve ever heard. It is a curiously beautiful record that makes no concessions and takes no prisoners. I’m a little embarrassed it took me a decade to buy a copy.