armony. What is it? When the “lower resembles the higher”? Sounds about right. But T&S, a boy/girl duet who co-sing without, apparently, hearing one another, don’t really resemble each other at all. But to be fair we need to indulge the last clause in the title. You know, the one that asks us to reflect.

And, after reflection, it’s not so bad after all. It’s fanciful, otherworldly, hypnotic. Track seven even sounds like The Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ “Modern Romance”. Nice work.

Stare longer. Peer deeper into the well T&S have dug. You’ll find an invitingly whimsical, intricately nuanced album. The patient, precise strings, accentuated by a pleasantly gruff slide guitar on “Smiling and Bleeding”, for example, disarm the listener. Expectations become moot as we hear double-dubbed voices singing “Met some friends who smiled and bled / … / I saw the light and I saw their teeth / And I found both so blinding”. Getting dizzy yet?

While jarring on the first few listens, the dual voices—a talky male Violent Femmes sound-alike coupled with a confident, lilting female voice—soon merge, forming a single ethereal, androgynous voice unlike anything this reviewer’s heard before.

Lyrically, T&S aren’t witty or rhymey so much as they’re playful. Melody is granted precedence while the words often sound like the fruits of happenstance, but (again, inexplicably) don’t detract from the overall quality of their odes.

Having concocted such a unique formula, Thomas & Sampson don’t waver from it in delivering these twelve wistful ballads. Nonetheless, the instrumental arrangements are tweaked just enough from track to track (handclaps, xylophone, 70s disco backbeat, etc.) to sustain the listener’s interest. That said, there are no weak tracks here. The quality is remarkably consistent and sophisticated.

It’s hard to pin down T&S’s influences. Within the seemingly chaotic tracks one finds the same kind of zany order that Jon Brion achieved on his score to Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. The hiccupy vocals of The Talking Heads also seem to be a source of inspiration, though T & S manage to integrate those vocals with their music much more, er, harmoniously than The Heads ever did.

Perhaps this reviewer has gazed too long into the reflection, but under its influence, When the Lower resembles one of the strangest, most creative releases of the year. For those who dare to give it a whirl, be prepared. When the Lower is an all-or-nothing album. But coming down from Wonderland is a wicked crash.