Immolate Yourself is the rather unhappily titled third – and quite possibly final – studio album from American electronic outfit Telefon Tel Aviv. By way of background, consider this: the New Orleans based band consisted of Charles Cooper and Joshua Eustice. They signed to Ellen Allien’s label BPitch Control in 2008 and Immolate Yourself was slated for a January ‘09 release. Cooper went missing on the 21st, and was found dead the next day. All live shows have been cancelled and the future of Telefon Tel Aviv is uncertain. At the time of writing, the official website shows only an RIP tribute to Cooper.

In this context of fresh grief, it’s hard to remain cold-headed and objective when listening to this. I find myself searching for secrets in the album’s tone and interpreting the music differently from usual, half expecting… I don’t know what, exactly. It’s hard to hear the music now and not be coloured by the circumstances surrounding its release. It would be easy to stake a claim for the album’s relevance and power, based not on the music itself, but on the impact of the sudden death surrounding its release.

I’ll admit that my first couple of listens didn’t grab me at all. It seemed lazily structured, derivative 80s beats propping up a wishy-washy pastiche of sound elements that weren’t all that coherent. But while those barriers took some breaking through, I’ve come to read the album as dense and animated; full of subtle precision and always with an eye to describing an evolving the emotional content. I think part of it is that on first listen, Immolate Yourself seemed very “drained”, all minor chords and slow, muffled lyrics, and it wasn’t until I’d heard it a few times that I recognised the buoyant undercurrent and realised that I had mistaken sanguineness for gloominess.

The sound is rich – the thickly layered pads are organic and lush, the vocals airy and the beats mostly crisp and quite dance-floor friendly. It’s an unusual mix and, given the tone of veiled optimism, leaves the album lying somewhere between a musty drowsiness and a real breath of fresh musical air. It’s like the bastard child of Cut Copy and Boards of Canada, with a dash of Sigur Ros, especially the title track that closes the album.

A friend of mine started raving about this as soon as he heard it – I think he was an old fan and he got it right away. I found Immolate Yourself to be challenging but rewarding. It’s not the most accessible LP I’ve ever heard but it really has something to say, and if you can put in the time you’ll need to hear it, you won’t be disappointed. Maybe just a bit depressed that you’ll never get another dose.