Certain Breeds loves a good horror flick. Huddled together in vocalist-keyboardist Jen Riego’s Mount Pleasant bachelor pad, the quartet’s members are doing their best to answer questions surrounding their achingly gloomy self-titled debut, but the distraction of Italian splatter legend Dario Argento’s Deep Red playing across the room proves too much.

“That’s blood and spit,” Riego shrieks excitedly as a woman’s head is taken clean off on the nearby TV screen, her neck gushing a mixture of red-and-white goo.

“I’ve always been into dark stuff,” the singer adds, noting that this extends beyond her preferred movie genre. In addition to having an obsession with ’80s goth godfathers Bauhaus, Riego frequently favoured all-black attire as a teenager. “When I was in high school,” she says, “I used to have big hair and wear so much eye makeup and white face makeup.” Hesitantly, she also admits to having a spider tattoo.

“I don’t really talk about it too often,” she allows.

“Jen’s an ex-goth,” lanky keyboardist David Reynolds says with a laugh.

Unsurprisingly, Riego’s obsession with the macabre has found its way into Certain Breeds’ music. Their album’s kickoff track, “2 A.M.”, finds the singer contemplating letting vampires into her home as cold-sounding drum machines and Leanne Chapman’s cello create what could be a postpunk soundtrack for Nosferatu. The similarly spooky “Street Dogs” barrels along on clanking drums and cathedral synth-organs.

“That song is about killer dogs,” Reynolds explains before Chapman chimes in, “Killer dogs that eat children!”

The chill factor of the track is amped up by a sample of howling wolves that Reynolds dug up. “I do a lot of sound-mangling,” he says proudly.

If Certain Breeds had been around during the earlier part of this decade, its Siouxsie Sioux–style new wave jams would’ve made the band natural practice-space mates with ’80s-obsessed Vancouver scenester acts like Radio Berlin, the Organ, and the Automovement. Currently, the foursome is desperately looking for clubs to play. “We’re having a hard time getting shows in Vancouver,” drummer Corey Woolger admits.

Although content with its current direction, cellist Chapman had something else in mind when she started Certain Breeds a few years back. After picking up her instrument for the first time since elementary school, she began writing some seriously melancholy material.

“The cello is a sad-sounding instrument,” she says timidly. “I started writing sad-sounding stuff. It’s easier for me to write stuff like this than anything else.”

Early tunes came out as weepy country ballads, but as each member was recruited, the sound began to morph into something much more heart-wrenching. “Central Cavern” explores the romantic side of goth, as swells of classical strings and duelling synths buoy Riego’s melodious vocals. Over and over she delivers the song’s only lines: “If you go, can I go with you? Don’t say it’s too hard to do.”

“They’re romantic, heartbreak lyrics,” the singer says, shrugging uncomfortably. “It’s about wanting to have a relationship with somebody that has other plans in mind.”

The disc’s notable lack of words is rooted in a determination to avoid cluttered compositions—“You don’t want to have too much going on,” Riego insists—but could also be explained by the nature of the group. A gang of introverts, the musicians of Certain Breeds are all extremely shy. Performances don’t exactly offer up a torrent of clever stage banter.

“In between songs, there is dead air,” the vocalist explains. “We’re very awkward and don’t know how to sell ourselves.”

The recent release of Certain Breeds brings the promise of more shows, which will hopefully help the unit get over its stage fright. Until then, the members of Certain Breeds are more than happy—and likely more comfortable—hanging out in Riego’s apartment, quietly arguing between grisly decapitation scenes about who is the shiest of them all. For the record, they’ve decided upon gentle giant Reynolds.

“I’m the most awkward,” he says with a nervous laugh. “I’m tall, and I just don’t fit in.”

Certain Breeds plays Honey on February 28.