[Warp Records]

Glass Swords, the first album by the Scottish producer Rustie, opens with a wailing guitar solo. Since debuting in 2007 with Jagz The Smack, Rustie’s been remixed by Heinrich Meuller, dabbled in hip-hop production, and lately explored a polychromatic tackiness everyone seems to want to call “stadium-prog.” The guitar introduction almost feels like a taunt, especially after the over-the-top theatrics of the 2010 EP Sunburst, as if the album could quickly descend into messy, gaudy pastiche. But it doesn’t.

Rustie manages to make sense of stacking all his influences, from the tasteful to the camp, on top of one another. And because he does this on every track, Glass Swords doesn’t feel uneven at all. It’s redolent of a lot — contemporary J- and K-pop, AraabMUZIK, the Bristolian “Purple Wow” producers — but it’s distinguished by how open and genre-less it sounds. “All Nite,” for example, is undercut by one of those side-chained lines we’ve all been conditioned to recoil from. But the track’s euphoric vocal hook is perfectly, playfully matched with it, and it ends up surprisingly weighty. Ditto “Hover Traps,” which ought to make you forget why slap-bass is such an ugly thing, though the slap-bass is hardly the focal point. A hugely catchy synth line takes precedence, sliding from pointed jitter to towering, breathless sheets of big-room sugar rush.

These are probably the apexes of the album’s toxic-but-intoxicating dynamic, as you certainly don’t have to work as hard to love a track like “Surph.” A middling, strangled vocoder warbles “I know you wanna ride out” amid streaky synths, breaking down a few times before suddenly it’s dueting anthemically with an unaltered female voice. Like “Hover Traps,” “After Light” spends its time building to an insane release — if ever the “stadium-friendly” tag was appropriate for Rustie, it’s in the track’s final minute-and-a-half. There are times when the crazed mishmash doesn’t quite gel — the demented hip-hop stomp on “City Star” is more cloying than catchy — but for the most part, Glass Swords capitalizes on trying to be as colossal as possible. Its runtime and track lengths are succinct and its highs are immediate and ecstatic. Rustie has realized he can be as gauche and eclectic as he pleases, provided he offsets his hyperactivity with massive hooks.