If a mad scientist were to somehow map out my tastes and set about designing my ideal album to lure me into some sort of trap, on paper that siren’s call would sound a bit like “nautically themed sludge metal/shoegaze/post rock/indie rock hybrid.”

But playing through speakers, that idea is even more alluring—not unlike the diver toward the light of the giant angler fish on the cover, I cannot resist this record. I hadn’t even finished my initial listen before purchasing a copy.

I discovered Helms Alee merely a week ago, while doing research for my Melvins posts. I followed the Melvins page to the article on Sludge Metal (as I’m still trying to nail down the lines between sludge, post metal, doom, and stoner metal…with limited success). On that article, there is a section subtitled “Other Fusions with Sludge Metal,” which listed tons of bands that I already love: Baroness (sludge metal and progressive metal) Boris (sludge metal and drone metal), and Isis (sludge metal and post rock).

Then, I spotted Helms Alee, followed by the combination of words, “sludge metal and shoegaze.” Given my deep love of each of those genres, I immediately turned to Spotify.

And it did not disappoint. While it might not be as obvious and fulfilling a fusion of the two as the self-tagged “sludgegaze” outfit Spotlights (my favorite band of the last few years), Sleepwalking Sailors is a satisfying and inspiring melding of influences and ethos.

There are shades of the Melvins’ plodding sludge metal, the glistening post metal of Isis and Cult of Luna, Sonic Youth’s riotous, aural anarchy, My Bloody Valentine’s billowing walls of guitar noise, among others. At first, it might seem like there’s little unity between these styles. The lurching tar of sludge metal and the warped-VHS neon of shoegaze in particular seem like odd bedfellows. However, the purest forms of these genres all have a deep appreciation for texture as a sonic palette—as well as guitar fuzz and reverb.

And there is no shortage of that here. This record traffics heavy in sonic juxtaposition. Clean guitars twinkles alongside fuzzed out bass riffs. Guitarist Ben Verellen’s voice switches between slacker-rock ready clean vocals and a pitched scream. Drummer Hozoji Margullis’ and bassist Dana James trade vocal duties, shifting from Kim Gordon-esque sneers to angelic harmonies. Atmospheric swells are interrupted by fiery chord bursts.

“Pleasure Center” opens the record with a deceptively anthemic march, giving way to a burst of relentless metal riffs. “Tumescence” follows with a plodding sludge. The verses of “Pinniped” are almost straight indie rock, which is a striking juxtaposition against the nervous energy of the screamed chorus and the wordless post rock build of the interlude. “Dangling Modifiers” rides a rapid arpeggiated guitar line that’s almost Minus the Bear by way of Neurosis until it explodes in a burst of post rock that won’t be out of place coming from Explosions in the Sky.

And that’s just the first four tracks.

This record is relentless in its shifting, hopping from mood to mood, each track playing off of the one before it (you really can’t appreciate this album on a track by track basis—listen to it as a whole). While there are several genres at play here, they don’t always divide up evenly. Standout “Slow Beef” melds the record’s most delicate and most abrasive elements into a single unified piece, opening with delicately swelled  and pushing the same progression to the fuzzed out limit, burning with a molten passion. Closer “Dodge the Lightning” opens with stoner riffs lifted from Sleep, then chills into a dreamy, melodic passage before exploding into a double-pedaled full on metal catharsis.

But at the end of the day, all of this dissection and taxonomy doesn’t really matter. What matters is whether or not the record is good. And for Sleepwalking Sailors, the answer is “absolutely.” This is a masterful work—especially for a group’s third outing together—its disparate elements coming together to build a cohesive sonic narrative. The track list is woven together like a soundtrack for a film that doesn’t exist. I haven’t looked at the lyrics closely enough to see if there’s a definite narrative, but even without a literal story, the plot is undeniable.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be spinning this again—and keeping an eye out for whatever mad scientist is trying to ensnare me.