Who here had a minor indiegasm when it emerged that Beyoncé’s little sister Solange Knowles was like best buds with Grizzly Bear? No? Either way, you might have recently heard ‘Kenya’, a track for the Replenish Africa Initiative (RAIN) whipped up by Solange, Twin Shadow and Grizzly bassist/flautist/producer wiz kid Chris Taylor? Well, it turns out Taylor had more extraBearestrial work up his sleeve, collected here in his first solo album under the moniker CANT .

Dreams Come True features some familiar elements and some unexpected, with the work split between eerily lovely acoustic songs like the piano-driven ‘(Broken Collar)’ and urban-ish electronica, with one brief, fun concession to industrial new wave in ‘She Found A Way Out’. The parts stay held together on a common thread of that menacingly sexy, breathy quality found in mainstream dubstep and R’n’B-influenced indie acts like No Kids and The xx. Taylor’s constructions are intricate, with layers of percussive samples so dry they sound close to snapping under the weight of the bass. Admirers of Junior Boys and recent Dirty Projectors will find a lot to love here, and the exotic club beat and wide ribbons of synth that run through ‘Too Late, Too Far’ has enough widespread appeal to prick the ears of even the most casual dance music fan.

One function of CANT is that it makes you realise how much Taylor does in his band. There must be an ancient curse on bassists that would explain the chronic underappreciation of their role, because this album seems to actively tear off a blindfold. Here, ‘Bang’ is the perfect frame for the forest-floor charm of a simple bass melody, and the unique smoky timbre of Taylor’s voice. You realise that voice does much more than caterwaul the harmonies of ‘Knife’. If you come to this with such utterly unfresh eyes and mind as mine, you will feel the absence of Ed Droste, Dan Rossen and Chris Bear quite keenly, but that isn’t to mean you will miss them. Dreams Come True feels like a faraway, hollowed-out cavern in which to make lonely noises, and what results is as beautiful as lonely noises can be. By the time the final sustained chords and buzzings rise out of ‘Bericht’ like illuminated whorls of dust, you will have long ceased desiring anything more. Play us out, CT: “And it’s all come down to this: what’s now gone somehow exists.”