The self-titled debut from Big Red Machine is essentially an experiment, a collaborative album between two of indierock’s biggest names: Bon Iver’s Justin Vernon and The National’s Aaron Dessner. It’s also the first offering from PEOPLE, the new artist collective assembled by the duo and other assorted friends. With all that in mind, Big Red Machine’s fluid, meandering flow becomes the sound of two world-class artists melding their ideas and influences. And, as it turns out, following the river downstream brings some pretty stunning rewards. Few of the songs on Big Red Machine follow a formal structure, but they’re also easily graspable. Most are built on some constant—a twinkling guitar line, a vocal melody motif—with waves of sound building and crashing around them, making for post-rock and lush, layered piano compositions that sweep you into a propulsive push forward. Sonically, it’s most akin to Bon Iver’s 22, A Million . But there’s a beating heart at the center of these xperiments, largely thanks to Vernon’s singing, aching and haunting as always. “Hymnostic” is among the duo’s most traditional compositions—a swaying, gospel piano ballad marching forward with Vernon’s soulful falsetto. Surprisingly, though, the album’s more experimental moments are the most gripping. “Gratitude” is just a pitter-pattering drum pattern and a flickering guitar riff, with Vernon somersaulting around the room, often with multilayered, processed vocals, crowing, “You better not fuck this up.” And on the aptly titled “Melt,” Vernon repeats “Well, you are who you are” until his words liquefy. Big Red Machine is immersive and strange, but more than anything, it’s beautiful.