As a music reviewer, my inbox is constantly bombarded with press packs. The unfortunate truth is that most of this goes ignored, buried amid the insurmountable pile of album streams and press releases.

But every once in a while, something will leap from the murky stream of promos and glisten like an iridescent marlin in the sun, catching my attention and holding it. A couple years ago, one of those records was Horizons, the sophomore record of Seattle’s Fotoform, a shining bit of post-punky shoegaze that’s as emotionally stirring as it is urgent.

I listen to a lot of music, both professionally and recreationally. Most of that music passes through without much of an impact. It’s well done, sure, but it doesn’t stay with me. Other times, it’ll get it’s claws in my so deeply that I’ll buy a copy immediately.

But the fiscal reality of being an independent band means that many times, an album will grab me but there’s no physical option yet. As attention deficit that I am, this usually just means I forget about the record entirely. In the case of Horizons, though, I made every effort to keep up to date. I signed up for updates on their Bandcamp and started following them on social media. I needed to get this record on wax. I preordered as soon as it was made available, and given pressing plant delays, I spent the next year or so returning to it, eager for whenever my copy might arrive.

And now that it has, I anticipate it won’t stray far from my constant rotation. It has all of my favorite musical tropes: brooding bass lines, atmospheric guitar lines, and glittering synths, all set to grooving drums and airy female vocals. At times, the guitars are so ethereal that it feels like the rhythm section could be a two-piece (note: I mean this is a compliment). Their kaleidoscopic sonic palette uses shades of Cocteau Twins, Slowdive, New Order, and Disintegration-era Cure, all while avoiding the trappings of so many color-by-numbers shoegaze devotees.

From the opening rush of “Shadow Spreads” to the poppy groove of “You Set Fire to the Sun” to the gothic melancholy of “We Only Have So Long” to the dramatic grandeur of seven-minute closer “We Crystallize,” Fotoform delivers their message with a clear and confident voice that belies the airiness of its music. Where much shoegaze feels amorphous and weightless, Horizons is fully formed. And now that I have a vinyl copy, it’s sure to be a frequent visitor to my turntable.