Like much of a certain portion of my generation, the early ’90s signify an era of music marked by shimmering melodies blurred by swathes of guitars. As manifested by a league of Brits with hair in their eyes, shoegaze seemingly took the promise of the psychedelic era and fulfilled it by eschewing jam band aesthetics for something as mind-meltingly beautiful as it was vitriolic. In other words, a style built on extremes more in keeping with a lysergic ethos.

While perhaps not as groundbreaking as some or as appealing on a pop level as others, Reading’s Slowdive nevertheless was among the genre’s most unique. The three albums the band created between 1991 and 1995 revealed the band continuously finding new ways of riding the waves of their dual-guitar attack while remaining exceedingly mellow. That those records remain distinct and undiminished by time speaks to Slowdive’s creative prowess. It is also provides ample reason for the band to reunite, especially considering singers Neil Halstead and Rachel Goswell continued to work together in Mojave 3 for many years after the split.

There was little fanfare when the band took to the stage of the Royale in Boston last week, just a simple “hello” from Goswell and “how ya’ doin’?” from Halstead. But the excitement of the soldout crowd was nonetheless palpable as they fittingly launched into “Slowdive,” on which Christian Savill’s ringing guitar tones instantly melted away the 20 years since the band last played the States. So to with Goswell’s singing on the subsequent “Avalyn,” as her voice has seemingly changed very little. On songs like “Crazy for You” and “Dagger,” though, it was easy to hear how Halstead sings differently with this band than on his own or with Mojave 3. He’s more subdued and doesn’t utilize his full range, but that hardly hinders the material.

Slowdive’s set was flawless in terms of selection, order, and length: a near perfect 90 minutes that got better and better as it unfolded. As such, when “She Calls” ascended into a fury of strummed guitar notes, it wasn’t so much an aural blitzkrieg as a natural progression into cacophony. “Alison,” perhaps my favorite moment, similarly highlighted the band’s dichotomy of beauty and furor. They finished the set proper with a cover of Syd Barrett’s “Golden Hair,” a song they’ve been doing since their initial incarnation and on which they drifted further into the eye of their self-made maelstrom. They returned for a two-song encore of the trance-like “Rutti” and the brighter “40 Days,” which only further highlighted the band’s sonic breadth. One was left feeling more than a little euphoric, though sadly, I could feel the elation dissipate as Slowdive once again became just a memory.