The amorphous Scottish trio, The Twilight Sad, are back with their third and perhaps most surprising album to date. They have never been afraid of mixing things up, from completely reworking the post rock inclined pop of Fourteen Autumns & Fifteen Winters into borderline sublime shoegaze with Here, It Never Snowed, Afterwards It Did, and later changing their tune with the slightly darker, more brash sophomore Forget the Night Ahead.

No One Can Ever Know takes this sonic evolution to the next level. Andrew Weatherall produced and citing influences such as Cabaret Voltaire, Liars and even Autechre, it is an altogether more polished affair, with walls of guitar being switched for a wash of synths.

Fans of earlier work will be in for an initial shock. The prominence of the synth pads on opener Alphabet can initially seem naive, even a little forced, and James Graham’s vocals are heavily treated – although taking little from the strength and character of his brogue.

The album continues in this darker, atmospheric vein and becomes much less uncharted with further listens. The industrial edged Dead City reminded me of Californian proggers Dredg, while the forthcoming, single Sick will dice with lazy Kid A comparisons but displays the poetic, brooding sentimentality we adore them for. Other standouts include the haunting anxiousness of Nil, which builds into a more classic Sad sound. In contrast the glammed up 80s pop of Another Bed will have you double checking your shuffle mode.

This album is definitely a shape shift, but risks exploring ground that is all too well trodden. It is easy to miss their old ways, but No One Can Ever Know still retains that certain skill for morphing pop-rock into something that is transcendental, aggressive and stark. Earlier subtleties will be missed, but this goth-tinged outpouring instills feelings of longing and despair as well as ever.

-Adam Prendergast-