Los Manglers’ first full-length, Between Worlds (Last Bummer Records), opens with one of the strongest bubblegum salvos in recent history. On “You Can Call,” against a dry snare brightened by handclaps, Laura Diaz’s voice sells the chorus, “What do you expect me to say when you want some midnight love, but you won’t give me the time to day?” Similarly, the record is most successful when it concerns itself with the act of seeing and the process through which identification with influences gels into finding one’s own voice. “Madeline’s Day,” a look at a woman caught out of time, is the most on-the-nose ode to art and life. Female backing vocals under Diaz’s lead and similarly overdubbed chiaroscuro acoustic and electric guitar from Antonio Oliveras imply stasis (with lyrical references to Pre-Raphaelites) as well as the gloriously messy motion and speed that threaten to pull the object apart. Mario Negron Gonzalez’s drums are key here. The invigorating sense that the track could fall apart at any time is intoxicating as it moves from a straighforward dance through a distorted, rapid-fire rock stomp into chimes and woodwind fragments before coalescing back into that catchy chorus. “Laudanum” is a winking slab of punk rock that recalls Coleridge and de Quincey with its opium tincture reference, but also nods at The Sonics’ “Strychnine.” “Before the Mirror” delves into the Whistler painting with haunting reverb-heavy verses that resolve to the line “everything is white,” delivered with the mournful quality of shouting into the void. Instrumental breaks, including the finest moments of Juan Antonio Arroyo’s bass, fuse and blur with Olivares’ surf guitar, taking what could be a dry exercise to a psychedelic place. “Highwired” ties the threads of influence and seduction together, calling back to the opening with a perfect kiss-off chorus that soars and dips. “I’m highwired for physical action, but your fantasies, typed, are boring distractions,” Diaz sings as Olivares’ guitar pinballs between echoing dried-blood chords and sharp stings.

The record loses its way with the goth inflections of the too-long “Too Stoned for Love,” a throwaway cover of Connie Francis’ “Stupid Cupid,” and the Plugz-recalling “St. Agnes.” But generally Los Manglers are onto something really fresh and interesting. If they keep chipping away at their unique voice this could be the best band of the fertile Puerto Rican scene.