The Artist: Cocteau Twins
Formed in Grangemouth, Scotland in 1979, Cocteau Twins were never easy to classify. Elizabeth Fraser’s distinctive voice was an instrument in itself. Singing in glossolalia (invented language) or fractured English, she made emotion the meaning.
With guitarist Robin Guthrie’s reverb-drenched soundscapes and Simon Raymonde’s melodic basslines, the band helped define dream pop - even as they seemed to float beyond it.
They began on the post-punk 4AD label, evolving rapidly from their stark debut (Garlands) into something far more spectral and ornate. Treasure was their third record - and the one that transformed them from underground cult to something mythic.
The Record: Treasure (1984)
Treasure doesn’t begin - it drifts in, like mist.
From the opening thrum of Ivo, you’re pulled into a world of shimmering guitars, tumbling basslines and Fraser’s ethereal vocals.
There are no choruses. No hooks. Just moments of sublime levitation:
Lorelei is giddy and airborne.
Beatrix sounds like it was recorded in a church made of ice.
Otterley is ambient - a whispered lullaby.
Even the track titles read like spells: Persephone, Aloysius, Donimo. It feels like wandering into someone else’s enchanted dream and forgetting how to wake up.
The production is rich with reverb, delay and layered textures, creating a strange kind of opulent vapour.
The closer you listen, the further it pulls you in.
Play Now:
🔊 Spotify | Apple Music | YouTube
Start With:
- Lorelei - Bright, breathless, otherworldly
- Ivo - The curtain draw, the dream begins
- Donimo - Slow-build cathedral-sized closer
