“Cut Your Teeth” bounded onto the web like an eager devil-puppy with an impish glint in its eye and savage fangs gleaming. Adorned in newfangled bells and spangly whistles, it’s a lurch to the leftfield for La Grange, whose first foray – into folk-rock – fell by the wayside somewhat. Stuffed with neon bass and dayglo hooks, we see a kind of sprawling synthpop. It’s a subtle, rabble-rousing anthem, almost entirely devoid of light. It’s a shadowy beast; a dark anthem that sets the tone for the record.

Watford’s Kyla La Grange has erupted from her two year cocoon for her second full-length release. Ashes, released during the London Olympics, is a world away from its successor Cut Your Teeth – La Grange’s run an electronic gamut instead of idling in the same folk-inspired territory as before. Progression, experimentation and general curiosity are – generally – pretty great concepts, especially in terms of music, and La Grange has taken that to heart for her latest anthology.

While La Grange hasn’t entirely jettisoned her folk roots, Cut Your Teeth is considerably more electronic – and not in a way that could be portmanteaued with ‘folk’ in any way – but there is an organic stripe galloping throughout. Tracks like “Maia”, which has Oliver Wilde-esque riffery and Gamelan chimes has a natural air to it, as well as, presumably through producer Jakwob’s helping hand, scores of rubbery wobbery. “I Don’t Hate You” is no-nonsense synthpop, “White Doves” employs exotic percussion and glassy electro shards, “Fly” is a big ‘80s power-ballad with Gary Numan synths. You’ll struggle to find a track that wouldn’t be at home shaking a festival crowd or infecting radio airwaves with drug-resistant earworms. If nothing else, this is a grand pop LP, circling the melee of the UK charts, stalking the weakest and poised to usurp any stragglers.

La Grange clearly has grander ambitions for Cut Your Teeth than she did on Ashes, and she’s approaching them with fervour and a reckless abandon. It’s a make-or-break gambit, veering so vehemently away from her prior timbres. It’s not a façade though; it feels like a fearless, devil-may-care lurch towards a distant goal. It’s like La Grange has just said “sod it, let’s do this” and got deliriously intoxicated by tearaway experiments. It’s an innate, knee-jerk reflex for her. This is a second skin sound, perhaps unrealised until taking the leap of faith in the aftermath of Ashes. Luckily, this immense gamble has proved more than worthwhile; reinventions don’t come much better than this.

Cut Your Teeth is an album based on a concept of rigorous, radical stylistic trials that could’ve so easily misfired. La Grange’s core fanbase have hopefully stuck around long enough for the metamorphosis, but flitting across the musical spectrum had the potential to alienate those who built her up. Regardless, if they begin to depart in droves, La Grange’s going to find legions that’ll adore the new direction. Fans of Niki + The Dove, Foxes, Tove Lo or Say Lou Lou will more than likely bask in the UV glow of this dazzling, albeit lovestruck/lorn, record.

Pop’s going through a renaissance of sorts lately, or more accurately, the chart-dominating pop is, and alongside the aforementioned, La Grange is leading the charge of the nu-pop brigade. Avoid at your peril; the record’s not for missing.