When I first heard Land of Talk they were not the band they are today. It was shortly after the release of their Applause Cheer Boo Hiss EP, and I was instantly enamored with the band’s two-fisted, punchy approach. Their guitars were crunchy and vocalist Elizabeth Powell’s coarsely beautiful voice was the perfect compliment to their well-constructed, abrasively catchy arrangements. Though there are still traces of those elements that made me fall in love with them, they have definitely smoothed out their sound and honed it to a razor’s edge. It’s appropriate that this is the band’s sophomore full-length, as their sound has grown a considerable amount since their first release. Cloak and Cipher doesn’t shadow the band’s subtle, softer songs, nor does it mask their previous furies. Instead, it’s an exercise in patience in both cases; Land of Talk don’t intend to make you wait, but they aren’t going to rush good song writing. The Hate I Won’t Commit is a slow boil; from the wall of guitar opening to the neck breaking bass riff near the song’s end, it spans a cathartic stretch back to their beginnings. Songs like Quarry Hymns and Playita are good indications of how the band has matured, showing off their well-settled rhythmic precision, bitingly clever and fresh lyrics coupled with a shiny guitar tone that’s hard not to like. The best part about Cloak and Cipher is that even though most of the songs span over five minutes apiece, they never feel long. No element ever feels drawn out and every song is distinct, which is something similar sounding bands sometimes struggle with by their second album. Land of Talk are continually outdoing themselves, though, and Cloak and Cipher is no exception.