There’s an old quote that goes something like, “writing about music is like dancing about architecture.” I generally disagree with that maxim—given the amount of time I spend doing just that. But sometimes, it hits the bullseye of my inadequacies. And when it comes to describing Brutus, that bullseye is a mile wide.

Because in truth, no matter how precisely I could parse the formulas behind the Belgian power trio’s genre-fusing alchemy (something like, two parts hardcore, one part shoegaze, one part shoegaze, a pinch of blackgaze, sprinkle pop sensibilities to taste), it would be utterly useless compared to actually listening to it.

I was first introduced to Brutus through this live video for their powerful track “War” off of their sophomore record Nest. That video usually accompanies every recommendation I make to listen to the band, just for the sheer surprise of the reveal that vocalist Stefanie Mannaerts is also playing drums. And while that track might actually be a relatively tame example of her abilities at either, it makes blistering tracks like “Dust“—where she drums at full tilt while also positively roaring—all the more impressive.

But Brutus’ trick isn’t just splicing genres into a gorgeous chimera while also offering impressive technical skills. These are also just great songs. While both records before this have been powerful demonstrations of what they do best, on Unison Life, they’re in peak form. Slow burn opener “Miles Away” roils along until it bursts into the punk urgency of “Brave,” and it’s off to the races. The band switches mood and tempo on a dime, often within the same song, such as the dramatic “Chainlife,” which opens as a dramatic ballad before breaking into a blistering hardcore beatdown. “Liar” pushes with a straightforward energy that’s almost pop punk, but for Stijn Vanhoegaerden’s shoegaze-via-thrash-metal guitar licks and Peter Mulders’ detuned bass. “Victoria” finds Stijn playing an angular arpeggio over the rhythm section’s driving chord progressions while Stefanie delivers a heartbreaking melody.

On seven minute closer “Desert Rain” though, they really flex their muscles. It opens softly, Stefanie singing delicately over Stijn’s ambient guitar. Then suddenly, there’s a burst of shredded guitar and blast beats as she jumps to the top of her range. After this chorus, the band downshifts into an angular rhythm. They then reprise the opening section but with a muscular drum beat beneath it. This climaxes into a halftime riff that acts as a deep breath before the next full-tilt chorus. After a couple measures of guitar on its own, the verse returns, this time with a manic quarter note pulse that matches the angst of Stefanie’s vocals. The song climaxes with a half-time reprise of the chorus with a slightly altered melody, quickly evaporating to just ambient guitar and vocals as the song comes to a close.

It might be recency bias, but this record feels like the most arresting thing Brutus has done. Where the previous two records have impressed and captivated me, Unison Life has dug is claws deep into my flesh. In the weeks since it’s release, I’ve returned to it dozens of times, each listen revealing some new facet beneath the surface. Brutus was already a rare band, but this is a rare record even for them.