Two more blurts of brilliantly degenerate rock music. Repetition, wielded like a cudgel. Slurping low end, through which scrape silver wires. Vocals bubble up, obscure but threatening. Like the phlegmy mutters from the only other person on the night bus who doesn’t seem to like the cut of your jib. And you know what? He’s moving closer, seat by empty seat. Loop and Suicide and Orchestra Of Constant Distress, and maybe even ‘Supercoven’ if it were written and performed by a post-punk band. Gorgeous. Horrible. It’ll throttle the life out of you, but there’s a good chance you’ll love it.