“Devotion” (Car Park) by Beach House is a perfect headphones album, but not in the traditional sense. It is not overstuffed with details like sound effects or found sound. Rather, “Devotion” is built around rich textures that slowly unfurl themselves to reveal a sad, quiet core. It is its minimalism that makes it so captivating.

There is a deep loneliness that seems to echo through the album, not least in the voice of female lead vocalist Victoria Legrand, a bartender originally from Paris. Her voice is often layered to create ethereal melodies, as if it were another instrument in the mix. But her lead singing is most captivating of all. She sings with a dreamy, vacant quality reminiscent of Grace Slick of Jefferson Airplane.

The instrumentals, meanwhile, are low-key in a bright, psychedelic way. Bandmate Alex Scally, a carpenter from Baltimore, assembles gauzy synths, simple, reverb-laiden guitar lines and plodding percussion that meld into the larger atmosphere of the song. Fans of Slowdive, an early 1990s shoegaze band, will feel comfortably at home. Even so, Beach House has carved out a sonic niche all their own.

Beach House’s standout songs are distributed evenly throughout the album. The third song, “Gila,” quivers with organ and a slow, lo-fi guitar riff, the best riff on “Devotion.” The best of Legrand’s vocals come in the song “Turtle Island.” The verse melody is sing-songy, oscillating between high and low notes. But at certain parts, Legrand’s voice overwhelms everything with a distant, piercing beauty. Everything but the drums drop out, leaving simple, pleading questions: “How?/ What?/ What?/ When?”

“D.A.R.L.I.N.G.,” meanwhile, is stunning. Repetitive organ notes create a slightly livelier pace beneath the sound of wind chimes. Bass drums heighten the drama with a heartbeat-like rhythm. This heart motif is no coincidence.

The theme of the album, as the title suggests, is the emotional intensity of commitment. The emotional terrain of Legrand’s love life is not the lust of the dance floor or even the infatuation of young love, which dominate most pop songs, but instead the bittersweetness of long-term devotion. Her lyrics and delivery are replete with shades of sorrow and joy alike. In “Wedding Bells,” she sings both hopefully and angrily, “Your wish is my command.” In “Turtle Island,” she arranges to meet her lover at Turtle Island, promising that “I will wait for you there/ Waiting silently/ I can keep you/ Right behind me/ All my days and nights.” Legrand, then, is not singing about the difficulties of falling in love, but in keeping it.

This is a sentiment worth listening to closely, headphones firmly in ears.