In my perception, Cursive has had two distinctive characteristics. The first is Tim Kasher’s conceptual and self-referential lyrics, which really came to their own on Cursive’s Domestica. The second is the presence of a cellist, which marked The Ugly Organ and their two reunion albums.

In that perspective, this is the first release in their chronology that really sounds like Cursive to me before my recent deep dive into their discography.

The Burst and Bloom EP is largely a transitionary piece, showcasing the transformation between the cathartic emo of their early career and the more intricately arranged albums they would go on to make. From the opening moments of “Sink to the Beat,” it’s clear that they’re taking a different approach to their songwriting this time. The song is slinking and groovy, Kasher pointing his lyrics toward the release in question, referring to their fanbase, “DC sound,” and the marketing purpose of an EP with sardonic self-deprecation. There’s even a reference to Sugarhill Gang’s “Rapper’s Delight.” When the song finally explodes into bursts (see what I did there) of hardcore energy, they’ve earned that payoff.

The rest of the disc isn’t quite as intentional, lyrically speaking, but it doesn’t have to be. At this point in their career, the band has cultivated a talent for writing sonic journeys that are surprising without feeling jarring. A great example of this is closer “Fairytales Tell Tales,” which moves through brittle dissonance and skittering drums to pounding, punctuating chord hits to a  triumphant coda in the closing movement.

Gretta Cohn’s cello lines fit neatly into the intricacies of their knotty guitar work and start-and-stop rhythm section, long string notes weaving through the angular arpeggios and clustered chords with athletic prowess. She doesn’t play every moment of the disc, but when she does, it elevates the whole band, such as the Bach-like run at the end of “The Great Decay.” The cello also lefts lift the more anthemic moments to even higher emotional heights, such as the passionate chorus of “Tall Tales, Telltales.”

And of course, there’s plenty of Cursive’s cerebral complexity, playing with ugly atonality in surprisingly pleasant ways. “Mothership, Mothership, Do You Read Me?” opens with a glitchy bass line playing against a tight drum groove, bursts of abrasive guitar chords, and an out-of-tune piano.

Hovering over all of this is the frequent Cursive collaborator, Bright Eyes member, and Saddle Creek staple Mike Moogis, whose production is far more expansive than on previous Cursive discs. Yet for all of the experimental effects, ambient interludes, and crowded sonic palette, the record sounds cohesive. The mix is never cluttered, even at the fullest moments.

While it could ultimately be viewed as a promising amuse-bouche for what was to come on Ugly Organ, Burst and Bloom is just as rewarding as a standalone disc. It treks through more sonic territory in five tracks (and the interludes between most of them) than all of the material before it. While Cursive was just getting started, they could have hung it up after this and been still regarded as legends.