Although it might be pushing it a bit to describe CocoRosie’s new album as sounding ‘grown-up’ (there’s a track called ‘RIP Bum Face’ for crying out loud) it’s undeniably more mature. The child-like operatics and wobbly, baby voices of Sierra (Rosie) and Bianca (Coco) Casady return on Grey Oceans, along with their intoxicating, sweet-and-strange mix of fairytale harps, wonky electronica and twinkling children’s toys. And if you can temporarily ignore the blue candyfloss beards and druid hoods on the accompanying artwork (nope, we don’t have a clue either) there is plenty to like.

A few years before the mystical, hippy-electronica of Bat For Lashes, and riding the same freak-folk wave that Joanna Newsom arrived on, CocoRosie released their lo-fi debut, La Maison de Mon Reve in 2004; a creepy, yet comforting swoon of acoustic guitars, distorted percussion and found sounds. (Is that popcorn popping in the background? And was that an elephant’s trumpet just then?)

Now on their fourth LP, their music is still as beautifully bizarre and eclectic as it always was; they are just finding new noises to tinker around with. There are crackly vocals from their mother singing in Cherokee (found on a cassette amongst her things), jazz piano from new band member Gael Rakotondrabe, and Bjork-meets-Psapp storytelling about lonely hotel rooms and helium balloons. Although they wander into seriously nutso territory at a couple of points (‘Hopscotch’ sounds like Orphan Annie experimenting with drum & bass beats and Western saloon pianos, for example), the overall effect is a sparkling, otherworldly wash of weirdness.

Classic Grand, Glasgow, Wed 12 May