At this point in time, the biggest question I ask about anything the Antlers could release is “will it get me to stop listen to Undersea?” And four tracks though it was, that extended play was one of the most beautiful records released in 2012, and it remains a fixture on my turntable. So when the mood strikes for the Antlers, will anything replace its sublime wonder, or should I just play the disc I have?

In response to this question, the Antlers submit Familiars, with a resounding “yes.” The swelling synths, the cascading horns, the shuffling drums that were gestated in Burst Apart and brought to fruition in Undersea all bloom and unfold into their full adult selves on this LP. All but one of the songs stretch past five minutes, allowing the atmospheres to plume into fully formed landscapes. Much of this is due to Darby Cicci, whose layers of pianos, synthesizers, bass lines, and horns dominate the textures on the disc.

And for someone who rose to fame with a depressing concept album, Peter Silberman’s writing is its most affecting when he paints with a wide brush. And the images here are abstract enough to hit a larger target. Images of childhood homes selling, not recognizing your reflection, and farcical parades all abound, creating a picture clear enough to empathize with but through a foggy enough lens that nothing can be intellectualized to much certainty. And as good an album as Hospice was, this sort of hazy, amorphous abstraction is where the Antlers really shine.