Pitchfork Media gave it the hefty title of “Best New Music.” Prefix Magazine calls it “the best thing the band has done.” And nearly every review of Beach House’s third album, Teen Dream, uses the word “gorgeous.”

Indeed, Teen Dream is nothing less than impressive for longtime Beach House fans and newcomers alike. The Baltimore-based duo has crafted an elegant collection of 11 songs, all of which are operatic, expansive and jingle-jangly.

Victoria Legrand has a rich, bassy voice reminiscent of Stevie Nicks. Her range of both pitch and emotion is worth noting, much like Nicks’, and alongside Alex Scally’s intuitive guitar work, her vocals reach an elite level, on par with indie-rock royalty like Karen O of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Its not that her voice is particularly impressive or well trained, just that it is striking, especially layered atop dreamy piano riffs and light tambourines. This is the key to Beach House’s success: the creation of a full and pleasant sound, one that surpasses even the cheapest set of headphones to present an enveloping, invasive experience.

“Take Care” is a robust, waltzy anthem that draws equally on melancholy ’80s pop like The Cure as it does on the modern clean-folk sound of The Fleet Foxes. The chorus is redemptive, as Legrand’s multilayered voice clips over the peaks of each word: “I’ll! Take! Care! Of! You! If! You! Ask! Me! To!” she wails.

But lyrics aren’t the focus here; the best part of a song like “Real Love” is Legrand’s vocal releases, her hollowed-out “oohs” and breathy vocal dives. Clashing cymbals and escalating synths make “10 Mile Stereo” sublime, while “Better” takes a cue from M. Ward’s breed of honest, sentimental ballads. “Norway,” the other celebrated track so far, is about as aggressive as Beach House gets, with riffs that meander in and out of tune and a fast-paced intro that alternates with drawn-out verses. Though there is variation between tracks, collectively this album makes a solid impression; you can listen to it straight through, from start to finish, over and over, and indeed it is more effective if you do so.

“Used to Be” rings gently with melodies that sound right out of Cat Stevens’ Tea for the Tillerman, with a melancholy blend of Morrissey-like sentiments, and “Silver Soul,” immediately after, opens with underwater noise but segues quickly into cinematic, broad strokes of orchestrated humming and buzzing.

But the best track of the album is by far its first single, “Zebra.” Expect to hear this one in the opening credits of a movie sometime soon; the guitar riff that kicks off the first verse alone should be copyrighted, because it launches the sweetest set of “oohs” since the Fleet Foxes’ first album came out. Legrand’s comforting voice soaks through the fabric of the song with lyrics that count: “You know you’re gold / You don’t gotta worry no one / Oasis child / born and so wild / Don’t I know you better than the rest? / All deception, all deception from you.” This is not the voice of the American, Baltimore-bred songstress; this is not the voice of the people. Instead, she speaks from some otherworldly place, where synth builds and snappy snare combine to fill the entire room with sound. “Gorgeous” doesn’t seem to cover it.