It was only after I became a fan of Silk Rhodes that I learned one half of the duo was prolific and versatile musician Michael Collins. Imagine my delight and surprise at his unexpected appearance: I had seen Collins perform at my college last spring under the name Salvia Plath, I had heard a release from his project Run DMT years before that, and I had also, more recently, become particularly obsessed with a prank call that he had posted on his YouTube account yolosubmarine.

Collins calls an ambulance chaser’s receptionist in Gainesville, Florida, bringing to her an absurd but perhaps believable case, in which a beverage truck driver mistakes him for the thief of his vehicle’s goods, and hits him down onto the curb, splitting his head open. In the style of Longmont Potion Castle, who works not in “prank calls,” but with the more sophisticated craft of “phone work,” Collins chooses to utilize surreal rather than juvenile humor. Although his content is a little off-kilter, what makes the recording genius is its unsettling delivery: Collins talks with a slow and halting pace of speech, and distorts his vocals with auto-tune, at first subtly, but eventually breaking out into full three-part harmony while begging the flustered assistant to stay on the line with him. The strangeness comes not from the message of his speech, which actually seems earnest, at least comprehensible. It is the manner and attitude through which he conveys his problem that makes you think: who the hell is this person? Is he serious, or is he screwing with me?

Which is why I was both surprised and not surprised to see his chameleonic self reemerge in a psychedelic retro soul duo along with the emotive yet equally strange singer Sasha Winn. Just like Collins’ prank call, the nature of the music in Silk Rhodes’ debut self-titled album is at once genuine and tongue in cheek. There are tracks—like the standouts “Pains,” “Realtime,” and “Hold Me Down”—that stand independently as wonderful pieces of music that one can enjoy without complications. But the album as a whole places them in a strange context, where a serious-seeming work will suddenly diverge into moments like “Laurie’s Machine.” Here Silk Rhodes employs the familiar yet somewhat outdated medium of the voicemail to create a minimally-scored sketch consisting of hard-to-understand messages left for a frustratingly unreachable Laurie, by characters whose roles in her life are never really explained. And just when you start thinking the whole opus is turning into some kind of joke, we are jolted back into normalcy—the album continues as if this had never happened.

The LP would be easier to place and categorize if the music seemed like a frivolous gag as well—but it doesn’t. It’s well-produced, well-written, well-sung, brimming with natural talent and musicality. And it would also be easier to understand if it were a humorless obsession with old musical forms. But by constantly riding the line between an ironic “just kidding” attitude and a real dedication to this much visited and revisited genre, Silk Rhodes make it impossible for the listener to stop the tape at the end and say “Okay, I get it.” I only really felt like I got a hold of the slippery creature that is this album around the third or fourth listen, and I am still replaying tracks to remind myself what, exactly is going on. Are they serious, or are they screwing with me? This is perhaps the question that the best breed of irony makes you ask. It is the kind that reminds you that irony does not always have to be overdone to the point of triviality, that it can actually tinge a work of music ever so slightly, making its impact more substantial than the easily-forgettable extremes of a strictly-imposed authenticity or obvious parody would. Collins and Winn are not afraid to dip their toes in both or either of those problematic puddles, but no matter which one they are engaging with at any given moment, they are always still looking at you with an expression that you may not have known existed before: the somber-faced wink.

Silk Rhodes’ debut self-titled LP is out now via Stones Throw.