I can’t sleep to this album. Like Radiohead’s Kid A, the moments of sheer bliss – the sweeping, ethereal parts of the album – are interspersed with, and sometimes undermined by, an unnerving quality.

I am at once lulled into a state of quiet mirth by the charmingly understated, yet morose ‘Into The Night’, but then shaken by the surprisingly heavy, intrusive, deep-seated beat of ‘A Song Is Not The Song Of The World’. This transition into what is probably the album’s weakest track illuminates just how Castanets, Raymond Raposa and whichever artists he choses to join him, consciously attempt to evade categorisation. With his Devendra Banhart-style warbling vocals, and lyrical themes of love and war, Raposa can easily be pigeon-holed as one of the new breed of folk musicians (see Devendra Banhart, Joanna Newsom etc.). First Light’s Freeze, however, continues with every listen to contradict any conclusion that I draw, and is by no means simply a folk record.

There is not one easy, James Taylor-ish, sad, yet uplifting moment on this record. Although so many of the songs are dedicated to friends (‘Good Friend, Yr Hunger’) or lovers (‘Into The Night’, ‘First Light’s Freeze’, ‘All That I Know To Have Changed In You’), they’re not to reassure the dedicatee, but to recount the singer’s woe and anxiety. Singing: “the war is on/all our friends are dying” in ‘Into the Night’, and “I want to get high on something/go dancing with someone/turn our backs to the battle” in ‘Dancing With Someone’, Raposa is not urging his sentiment on others. He is instead introspective: not actively voicing his disgust at the world, but in a passive, almost exhausted manner, acknowledging and expressing his own distress. The underlying morbidity eventually takes its toll, and I can’t relax. The beauty of some of the production on this record belies its content, as it makes for a tense, quietly devastating listen.

Some songs on the record are of wider perspective, but they’re generally less impressive musically. Apart from ‘No Voice Was Raised’ – the climax of which parallels its vision of a quickening worldwide entropy – it is the louder, upbeat tracks that are the least effective. ‘A Song Is Not The Song Of The World’ is irritating at best, though almost saved by the organ and hint of saxophone that emerge in its final moments. Similarly, ‘Good Friend, Yr Hunger’, the album’s most typically folk track, is rendered virtually impossible to listen to by the grating hand-clapped rhythm.

As the falling rain that underpins the title track, ‘First Light’s Freeze’, sends me drifting through memories sound-tracked by corrugated iron rooftops, the maelstrom that brings ‘No Voice Was Raised’ to a close firmly rouses me in a manner not dissimilar to a radio alarm clock stuck between stations. The inconsistent mood of the album, rather than leaving me impressed by the range of genres and sounds that the band can encompass, leaves me somewhat disappointed; for mine, this inconsistency is First Light’s Freeze’s greatest flaw. It is through gentle dynamics, rather than pulsating rhythms, that Castanets find their feet. Moments of understated, yet unmistakably inspired musicianship and lyricism show the true merits of a band like this; the atmospheric, hollow guitar, subtle harmonies and expressive vocals in ‘Bells Aloud’ and the beautiful harmony/dulcimer combination in ‘Dancing With Someone (Privilege of Everything)’ are the most remarkable examples of songwriting skill on show here. When Raposa’s intimate vocals are not contrasted with heavy-handed rhythms or invasive guitar riffs – when he opts for a more stripped-back approach – then the music is not only more accessible, but far more effective. On one hand, we have some beautifully rendered, lushly produced lo-fi tracks, with engaging, honest vocals. On the other hand, there are the superfluous intermittent soundscapes/instrumentals, the forgettable ‘non-event’ tracks such as ‘First Light’s Freeze’ and then there are some that could really have been left out, if not for the sake of the album’s ‘flow’, for my well-being at least: ‘A Song Is Not The Song Of The World’, ‘Good Friend, Yr Hunger’.

Castanets have produced an album that leaves me confused: at times I want to relax, at other times, in frustration, I reach for objects to hurl at my stereo. So, unlike their bearded indie/folk counterpart, Iron and Wine, I’ve come to the conclusion that I can’t sleep to Castanets. In fact, there’s nothing I can really commit to while this record’s on: any mood that First Light’s Freeze elicits is fleeting, and for every moment of brilliance, I am later equally under-whelmed.