Blindspotting: Cocteau Twins, "Heaven or Las Vegas"

The Legacy: One of the many cult favorites to come whirling out of the 4AD offices in the late '80s and early-to-mid '90s, Cocteau Twins soaked up an ocean of critical acclaim by standing at the sweet spot for college stations of that era. More tuneful than My Bloody Valentine and more obtuse than the Sundays, but sporting glimmers of both bands' best bits woven into their dreamy goth-rock trappings, the Cocteaus were a fixture on indie record store endcaps for virtually their entire existence — they were one of those acts you heard about more often than you heard their music, back when that was still a fairly regular thing.

That changed, a little bit, with the fall 1990 release of Heaven or Las Vegas, which refined and polished their sound juuuuuuuust enough to build on the momentum they'd established with 1988's Blue Bell Knoll, their fifth full-length and first to receive major-label distribution in the U.S. via a pact between 4AD and Capitol. They weren't selling anything Top 40 was buying — the album peaked at No. 99 — but they did score a pair of alterna-hits with "Iceblink Luck" and the title track, both of which went Top Ten at that format.

Unfortunately, the Cocteau Twins proved to be somewhat star-crossed, which tends to happen with two of the band members are romantically involved. Singer Elizabeth Fraser and guitarist Robin Guthrie had a child together during the period leading up to Heaven's recording, and although a certain amount of domestic bliss peeked through in these songs — you can hear it in "Pitch the Baby" in particular — storm clouds were coming, with addiction, death, and a rapidly worsening relationship with 4AD founder Ivo Watts-Russell looming on the horizon. By the time they returned with Four-Calendar Café in 1993, they were on a new label and Fraser and Guthrie were a couple no more; by 1997, the band had dissolved under such acrimonious circumstances that they've never reunited. (They seemed to come close in 2005, but those plans were dashed when Fraser decided she still couldn't bring herself to share the stage with Guthrie.)

I suspect the group's refusal to go back on its breakup has only added to the Cocteau Twins mystique over the years, while allowing their music to shine under the halo of nostalgia unimpeded by latter-day efforts that could never possibly bear the weight of expectation. (coughPixiescough) Heaven or Las Vegas sounds like the college rock side of the dial in 1990, and those of us who were there at the time have a lot of residual affection for that — even folks like me, who would have dismissed every second of this album back then.

First Impressions: If I'd heard Heaven or Las Vegas in 1990, I'm sure I would have found it performatively artsy and unnecessarily lyrically opaque. That second point still stands, as Fraser ranks high on the list of singers who never seemed to give a damn whether anyone could tell what she was singing about; throughout my first pass through this record, I wasn't sure what I was listening to and I didn't think it was musically interesting enough for me to care.

But the more I listened to it, the more it drew me in, and after a few spins, I found myself thinking about how Heaven or Las Vegas is kind of like certain moments in life when you don't really know what's happening, you're definitely not sure what's going to happen, and it's all unsettling as hell — but once you're done freaking out about all that uncertainty, you start to relax a little, and notice the patterns of beauty in your new reality, until what was once frighteningly unfamiliar becomes reassuring in its own way.

I mean, I'm not saying Heaven or Las Vegas is the slightest bit unsettling in musical terms — this is resolutely gauzy stuff, the kind of thing that wafts around and sticks to your eardrums, loaded with chiming guitars and topped off with vocals that straddle the line between melancholy and purely lovely. What I'm saying is that I think it's the type of record that doesn't reveal itself to you right away; it knows it deserves a little extra time and attention first, and it isn't afraid to wait for the listener to lean in. That's the type of move that tends to lead to hundreds of thousands in sales rather than multiple millions, but hey, being a rock 'n' roll star isn't always everything it's cracked up to be.

Hidden Gems: The folks at 4AD weren't exactly in the business of cranking out hit singles, but they knew radio-ready stuff when they heard it — "Iceblink Luck" and "Heaven or Las Vegas" are definitely two of the most airplay-friendly cuts on the album, and if you know me, you know that means they're two of my favorite songs. Since they were singles, they're off the table, but that's okay; after listening to Heaven or Las Vegas all day, I've decided that my current top pick is "Fotzepolitic." I don't have the foggiest idea what it's about or even if Fraser is singing in English, but it sure is pretty.