If I may allow another exception to my general dislike of compilations…

The last week or two, I’ve been in a strange loop, ping-ponging between Cocteau Twins, the Cure, and Siouxsie & the Banshees (who I’m a new fan of) with a newfound appreciation for the tangled web that led from post-punk and goth to dream pop and shoegaze.

Cocteau Twins are probably the biggest lynchpin in that chain. From their earliest incarnation as gloomy goths, they embraced the romantic filigree of the genre and brought it out of the shadows.  While much of this transmutation can be traced through their full lengths, the (several!) EPs and singles released between albums offer important context to the steps along the way.

The Pink Opaque, released following the popularity of “Pearly-Dewdrops’ Drops” on American college radio, was compiled to give their new American audience a taste of their career up until that point. Decades beyond that purpose, the disc serves as a beautiful chronicle of their metamorphosis.

For all of its grandeur and glitter, Robin Guthrie’s ethereal guitar work was rooted in post-punk’s minimalism and goth’s spiritualistic drama. Likewise, Elizabeth Fraser’s otherworldly lilting was unlikely to become as alien as it did outside of the fiercely experimental culture of post punk. It might be hard to identify these roots on albums like Victorialand and Heaven or Las Vegas, but The Pink Opaque makes it a little clearer, juxtaposing some of their dreamiest singles against some of their gothiest.

Gossamer, airy tracks like “Millimillenary” and “Pearly-Dewdrops’ Drops” sit side by side with darker, more urgent songs like “Wax and Wane” from Garlands and the muscular “Musette and Drums,” which features a guitar part that sounds more David Gilmour than Robin Guthrie. But illuminated by the glow of the gauzier tracks around them, you can see the nucleus of Cocteau Twins’ future sound wrapping itself in silk like a cocoon. “Wax and Wane” in particular has a haze of ethereal guitars wafting between the menacing rhythm section.

Some of the most satisfying moments though are where they play with both ends of their spectrum in the same track. “Hitherto,” which was on 1983’s Sunburst and Snowblind EP alongside “Sugar Hiccup,” opens with a dark post punk figure before blossoming into a verse that is pure dream pop, switching between the two effortlessly across the runtime. “The Spangle Maker“‘s melody is in a dour minor key, but its instrumentation has the same glistening sheen Cocteau Twins would become known for.

The main event though is the track that brought them all this Stateside attention in the first place. “Pearly-Dewdrops’ Drops” sees the band stepping into the fullness of the band they would become. In a way, it sounds even more Definitive Cocteau Twins than Treasure, the album often cited as the point where they embraced their trademark sound, despite the fact that it was released most of a year before it. But given the strength of the rest of these songs, “Drops”‘ notability on this compilation is only in a factor of decimals. The Pink Opaque is a snapshot of a band who was fully engaged in brilliance, even if they were still on their way to finding their voice.