Glass Candy

When Ida No was deciding what to call her glam-inflected, no-wave-­channeling, ­minimalist-disco, shrapnel-­shrieking dance-floor mindfuck of a band, she must have had an Archimedean moment of epiphany. No and friends took the elements of Ziggy Stardust-era David Bowie, the anti-­everything cacophony of James Chance and Lydia Lunch, and Siouxsie Sioux's scary/sexy, painful/beautiful vocals and perfectly distilled them into Glass Candy. The Portland group's minimalist arrangements offer moments of beauty, but only from certain angles. Sometimes you see right through them; other times they're highly reflective and show only a pale image of what's right in front of them. Always brittle, they threaten to shatter into a billion shards if No hits just the right note. Sweet and colorful, the music contains many layers emanating from the center, offering different, often shocking sensory experiences. Glass Candy is a crystalline confection, and you'll most assuredly want more, even if your gums bleed as you chew.