“Ooh, innit he scrummy?” Photo by Lisa McGrillis.
 
He’s back! Once again, we’re thrilled to present a year-end music round-up from Graham Duff. Graham is the creator of Ideal, the cult hit dark comedy that ran for seven series on BBC Three (before some idiot cancelled it). He is a well-known music fanatic and personally selected Ideal‘s eclectic soundtrack. Seen in a small role in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows as a “Death Eater,” he has recently worked on the BBC sitcom Hebburn with comedian Jason Cook and is working on an Ideal feature film. In 1992, Graham Duff’s one-man stage show “Burroughs,” based on the life of William S. Burroughs won him a Brighton Festival award.
 

 
It feels as if Cave and violinist Warren Ellis’ recent soundtrack work may well have influenced the creation of the latest Bad Seeds album. This is an atmospheric, slow paced and reflective set - a world away from the metallic Stooges-like strut of Cave’s Grinderman side project. With many of the songs here built up from Ellis’ loops, the album has an organic sensibility and The Bad Seeds seem less shackled than ever by conventional structure. There is a looser feel to many of the tracks, yet with no loss of focus. On “Jubilee Street” and “We No Who U R” Cave’s pensive observations are set to the most retrained and graceful backing, while the closing title song may be one of Cave’s most beautiful compositions yet.
 

 
Under the guise of This Quiet Army, Montreal’s Eric Quach has released a number of albums of slow moving monolithic guitar music, welding the glacial riffage of Earth to John Bonham style drumming and droning lead lines, which vibrate like overhead cables in the fog of distortion. Although still possessed of a powerful and occasionally, oppressive atmosphere, Hex Mountains also has far more ambient moments than on previous releases. On “Wraithslayers,” the guitar is so heavily processed it sounds like a broken synth, creating thick, granular pools of noise. “Digital Witchcraft” could be a close relative of Robert Hampson’s Main, as Quach creates another unsettling soundscape in which only fragments of guitar remain.
 

 
The prolific Taiwanese born, Canadian bred lo-fi auteur Alex Zhang Hungtai has seriously upped his game by producing this grand double header. Drifters is the more song-based album. Meanwhile, Love Is The Devil is a largely instrumental set, consisting of pieces with an often romantic or melancholic streak. Hungtai has always admitted that Suicide are one of his prime influences and there are a number of songs here - “Night Walk,” “Au Revoir Mon Visage” and “I Dream In Neon” for example - which could be straight off the first two Suicide albums. The titles alone would make them shoe-ins. Yet Love Is the Devil proves how much more there is to the Dirty Beaches project, sounding not unlike a third generation recording of the soundtrack to a long lost Wong Kar Wai movie.
 

 
Forest Swords debut Dagger Paths (2010) presented an open ended take on dub and bleached out trip hop. And the belated follow up album Engravings continues to widen the Forest Swords palette. Lone sword Matthew Barnes also works as a graphic designer and it’s easy to see in his music a visual artist’s sense of placement and detail. There’s far more guitar on this album, and the skeletal lead lines are given plenty of space to shine in Barnes’ echo chambers. Highlights include the Morricone- esque “The Plumes” and “Onward” which mixes a rich tribal drum pattern with what appear to be heavily distorted orchestral samples. Meanwhile, “Gathering” sounds as if Cyclobe are mixing it up with PMT era Tricky. Yes, that good. It’s entirely fitting that Barnes’ exploratory work into the continuing possibilities of dub have since been acknowledged by a remix of the title track by one of the genres’ true originators Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry himself.
 

 
Bruce Gilbert has been releasing albums of solo electronica since the mid-80’s. On career high points such as The Shivering Man (1987) or Odier (2004) he’s delivered work which can be both intense and emotive. On Diluvial, he collaborates with Naomi Siderfin and David Crawforth aka BAW to create an album themed around the effect of rising sea levels. Blending field recordings of the Suffolk coast with subtle synthetic pulses and granular tones, this is a rich and sensitive collection of abstract pieces. The album’s disposition alternates between wonderment and disquiet and, on the uneasy glide of “The Void” or the moody subaquatic throb of “Beasts of the Earth,” Gilbert and BAW have the alchemist’s touch, transforming limited sonic information into gold.
 

 
If you’re tired of electronica that engages only with feelings of dread and unease, then Eat Lights Become Lights 3rd album could be the antidote you’ve been searching for. The mood here is frequently one of bright optimism. Indeed, the title track displays an almost giddy sense of Klaus Dinger-like forward propulsion and “Chiba Prefecture” blends bright guitar noise with a confident electro-motorik flicker. But there are other flavors here too. “Rowley Overlook Way” has a slow and gentle crepuscular glow, whereas the constantly building “Habitat ‘67,” deploys circling cello runs to surprisingly moving effect. This isn’t the soundtrack to some utopian future, rather the sound of the joyous journey toward it.
 

 
2013 saw the addition of two new albums to the already sizeable catalogue of Italy’s ever-industrious sound designer, musician and film soundtrack composer. Still Smiling was a collection of disquieting multi-lingual songs recorded with Blixa Bargeld. However, Teardo’s finest release of the year, is Music For Wilder Mann. A sequence of beautifully crafted instrumentals, the album foregrounds Teardo’s trademark lush yet restrained cello and violin arrangements. “Ultra You” and “Wilder Mann” meld tender cello lines with layers of sonic dissonance, whilst “The Rapture Institute” recalls the exquisite string and sequencer interplay of his soundtrack to “L’amico di Famiglia.” Teardo has a gift for creating deceptively simple musical spaces, which, upon closer inspection, bristle with melodic ideas and sonic detail.
 

 
Multi-instrumentalist Chris Anderson has been a significant member of both underrated art-glam stompers La Momo and the majestically intense Celebricide. However, under his Crayola Lecturn guise, Anderson crafts music of a quite different hue. There are echoes of Ruth is Stranger Than Richard era Robert Wyatt or perhaps Kevin Ayres circa The Confessions of Dr. Dream in this set of strange, uplifting songs and wistful instrumentals. Whilst Anderson’s gentle, distinctive vocals and beautifully considered piano playing are very much at the core of the sound, Alistair Strachan’s expressive cornet and trumpet work also add an emotional punch. The strongest pieces here, such as “Slow Down” and “Old Magick” showcase Anderson’s gift for aching melodies and poignant yet slanted sentiments.
 

 
Combining the considerable talents of Stephen Thrower (Coil, Cyclobe) on keyboards and reeds and David Knight, (Shock Headed Peters, Arkkon) on guitar and synths, Unicazurn are practitioners of a deep, brooding kosmiche. Comprising two lengthy soundscapes, Dark Earth Distillery was culled from live appearances in England, Poland and Germany, which have been substantially transmuted in the studio. “Hard Dawn of the Atomic Ghost” opens like the soundtrack to a heat haze on an alien world, before entering a submerged zone where dark sheets of sound are pierced by lonely clarinet calls. Companion piece “The Infernal Kernel” sounds as if 1972 vintage Roxy Music decided to let Brian Eno’s intros become a whole side of an album.
 

 
22 years after producing their game changing second album Loveless, My Bloody Valentine finally deliver album number three. The sound-world MBV minted around the time of that last set – fluid drum patterns, honeyed vocals and shimmering waves of processed guitar and sampler abuse - always existed to one side of fashion. So it should come as no surprise that several tracks on mbv - especially “Who Sees You” and “If I Am” - sound as if they could have been recorded weeks after Loveless rather than decades. But there are also points when MBV are definitely pushing into fresh territory. ‘New You’ has a sprightly pop bounce, making it the album’s most accessible entry point, whereas the ultra-minimal “Is This And Yes” takes a simple, bright ascending organ pattern and adorns it with Bilinda Butcher’s gentle layered vocals and little else.
 

 
There are trace elements of several great maverick guitar bands here – Sonic Youth circa Daydream Nation, Sleater-Kinney at their most surf infused and the vertiginous energy of Huggy Bear. But this young Cardiff 5-piece have a distinctly British take on the US alt.- guitar rock tradition. They play with sweet harmony as much as angular dissonance and Alanna McArdle’s vocals have an impressive range. Of the eleven tracks here, only three pass the three-minute mark. Joanna Gruesome are a band who know how to make their point and leave. Ignore the glib, jokey name - this is a vivid and vital debut that engages the heart and the mind.
 

 
With their complex and frequently hectic arrangements, Manchester’s Dutch Uncles would seem to stand apart from any scene. This is a very sprightly math rock, with shades of the King Crimson of Discipline or possibly Remain in Light era Talking Heads. The word prog has been used in conjunction with the band’s sound. But do not be a‘feared, because their work is song based and concise, while Duncan Wallis’ feminine vocals can surprise with their emotional depth. Their third album is definitely their most accessible yet, and, while the intricate structures remain, there is a far more varied sense of dynamics on display. And, on the stuttering, string assisted roll of “Nomento,” or the lively dazzle of “Godboy” the band’s sound is unique.
 

 
A confident and muscular debut, which sets out its stall from the first note. There is an intense seriousness here – witness song titles such as “City’s Full,” “Hit Me’ and ‘Strife” – but Jehnny Beth’s strong vocals also create an emotional connection. There have been numerous mentions of Siouxsie and the Banshees and the Gang of Four in relation to the Savages defiantly post-punk sound. And yet, with their stop/start rhythms, stern lyrics and alternately jagged and echoing guitar work, the post punk originators whom Savages most closely resemble are The Au Pairs. But Savages have a far wider ambition, as can be heard on the strange, smoldering instrumental “Dead Nature” and album closer “Marshall Dear” with its widescreen piano and graceful clarinet line.
 

 
This debut album may have been a long time coming, but it more than delivers on the promise of Factory Floor’s single releases. With their expansive experimental electronics, heavily treated guitar textures and house- tinged dance floor grooves, it’s just possible that they are the true heirs to both Throbbing Gristle and Spiral Tribe. That said, they actually resemble neither. “How You Say” mixes an insistent buzzing synth sequence with Nik Colk Void’s dreamy vocals, whereas “Turn It Up” sounds like an early acid house 12” by Adonis or DJ Pierre, that’s been stripped back even further. At their best, as on the constantly looping “Here Again,” Factory Floor display a rare mastery of repetition and mutation.
 

 
Hailing from Richmond Virginia, Cristal are an experimental electronic trio who have crafted an album of delicate yet muscular drones. Labeled by some as dark ambient, this is music in which very little happens but every moment matters. On the gentle, meditative sweep of “Streaming Wisdom,” or “Herrevad,” where muted pulses echo across a deep chasm, Cristal display a perfect balance of power and restraint. Homegoing received a limited release in 2010, but was only made properly available this year with the inclusion of two additional pieces. One of which: “12:12” opens with Cristal in a far more fierce frame of mind, as they send out sustained bursts of noise into a reverb soaked haze.
 

 
Permanent Signal is Italian ex-pat Mauro Remiddi’s second album of gauzy dream pop as the elegantly named Porcelain Raft. Permanent Signal has replaced some of the woozy and smeary production of last year’s adorable debut Strange Weekend with a slightly smoother studio gloss. But it feels almost as if, by sharpening his studio focus Remiddi has discovered a stronger melodic sense. This is a romantic and poised album, with songs such as “Echo” and “The Way Out” sounding like classics in waiting. There’s a strong sense of pop drama here, and - strange as this may sound - tracks such as “I Lost Connection” make a convincing case for Remiddi as the hypnogogic Robbie Williams.
 

 
Whilst Nancy Elizabeth has already proved that she’s mastered the craft of writing understated but memorable songs, her third album shows her talents have genuinely blossomed. And it seems the key to the album’s success lies in her willingness to step outside her comfort zone. At one end of the spectrum there’s “Indelible Day” which wouldn’t sound out of place on Kate Bush’s Lionheart, at the other end, there’s the strange, disembodied, Steve Reich-esque “All Mouth,” with its slowly gathering looped voices. Her compositions and vocals have an unmistakably English imprint and this is a diverse and intelligently crafted set of songs. The closest thing I can think of in spirit, is the early work of Virginia Astley. But that downplays the distinctly individual character of Elizabeth’s work.
 

 
It’s easy to see how sister and brother Karin Dreijer Andersson and Olof Dreijer could subtly retool their sound to penetrate further into the mainstream and reap the attendant rewards. Yet this double album sees them move into ever more wayward zones. Shaking The Habitual largely sidesteps the electro-pop excitements, which peppered previous outings in favor of a more experimental and unpredictable approach. The album’s centerpiece, is the instrumental “Old Dreams Waiting to be Realized”; nineteen minutes of glassy, ambient tones which recall the voluminous soundscapes of Pansonic. However, on the low, serpentine slither of “Raging Lung,” or the 21st century electronic gamelan of “A Tooth For An Eye,” The Knife still sound like no one else.
 

 
With their mutant mix of Suicide’s throb, The Glitter Band’s stomp and a generous pinch of krautrock, Helsinki’s K-X-P make good on the promise of their self titled debut. In truth, this ambitious album is a huge leap on. Not only does it have a far greater variety of tone and mood, it also contains a clutch of very special tunes. Their songs are rhythmically driven, with cyclical drum patterns pinning down electronic arpeggios. But K-X-P seem capable of infinite variations. Indeed, “In The Valley” somehow manages to sound like Neu! collaborating with the inhabitants of The Wicker Man’s Summerisle. With their mastery of motorik, their open ended desire to test out new sounds and their space rock dynamics, K-X-P are the band which Secret Machines only think they are.
 

 
This may be an album of dark, ominous techno, but Lyon’s Mike Lévy clearly understands the appeal of big pop thrills. Like Leftfield or The Prodigy or The Chemical Brothers, Lévy knows that the key to sonic success is allowing a track’s hook room to breath. The sound here is uncluttered, with every note and beat earning its place. Lévy is often keen to eschew the mid range, in order to play out the intense dynamics between subsonic bass and high-pitched tones. Occasional vocals come courtesy of Parisian Chloe Raunet, and her detached delivery is a perfect match for the shiny surfaces of Gesaffelstein’s music. “Destinations” deploys a sparse bass throb and when Raunet’s spoken vocal opens with “It’s just a temporary slide back in the abyss” you know you’re in for a quality ride. This is a cool, sleek and distinctly Ballardian vision of techno.
 

 
Zola Jesus (aka Nika Roza Danilova) has released three albums of vivid torch songs, blending elements of industrial, modern classical and a kind of stentorian R&B, topped off with her dramatic, full-throated vocals - sounding, at times, like a classically trained Siouxsie Sioux. Here, her back catalogue is re-tooled by J.G. Thirlwell. The original recordings’ synthetic instrumentation has largely been supplanted by Thirlwell’s well-judged arrangements for string quartet. The choice of songs is impeccable, with “Night,” “Sea Talk,” “Vessel” and “Run Me Out” all benefitting from his strong but understated treatment. “Hikikomori” has been completely stripped of its rhythm track, allowing Danilova’s voice to float above the darting weave of strings. This is by no means a complete reimagining of the Zola Jesus sound, more a case of highlighting strengths that were always there; same jewels, different setting.
 

 
The increasingly assured It Hugs Back expand on their last album’s sense of experimentation, with no intention of being pinned down to a specific style. The band’s sound remains natural and unforced, and much of their appeal comes from the collision of main man Matt Simms’ Lee Renaldo-esque multi FX-pedal guitar work with the band’s wide-eyed melodic sensibility. From the thrillingly fuzzy head-rush pop of album opener “Sa Sa Sa Sails,” through the manic La Dusseldorf tinged motorik of “Piano Drone,” to the incandescent fuzz box and organ overdrive of “Big Sighs,” It Hugs Back deliver an album of fizzing, inventive and wide ranging guitar rock. Truly a recommended record.
 

 
There is an odd kind of inevitability about Bristol producing another collective of maverick dub influenced stylists. But this eight strong electronic collective wear their influences lightly and, as might be expected from such a large conglomeration of duos and solo artists, there’s a wide range of flavours on offer. Comparisons with the Massive Attack/Tricky/Portishead trip hop axis are unavoidable and, with Blood Sugar’s Martina Topley-Bird shaped vocal, the similarity is writ large. But Young Echo’s antecedents come from well beyond the confines of Bristol. “Untitled No.7” may owe a debt to Pole or Lithops, and the dark and moody opener “Ridial Sheaves” could almost be Faust. This is an intriguing and mesmeric album that takes several listens to reveal its treasures.
 

 
On their fifth long player, Boards of Canada seem to have adopted a more somber mood. Indeed, a decidedly autumnal atmosphere pervades many of the themes and motifs throughout the album. It’s as if their machinery has become rusted or clogged with dust. The electronic shiver of “Uritual” and the wind blasted “Collapse” are amongst the darkest material BOC have recorded. There’s even the feel of some of Angelo Badalamenti and David Lynch’s more synthetic outings to a few of the tracks, with “Samena Mertvykh” especially sounding like an out- take from the Mulholland Drive soundtrack. But there is optimism here too. “New Seeds” builds up from a jagged rhythm in the style of early Dome, into one of BOC’s trademark sweetly buoyant melodies.
 

 
On her third solo album, the Vancouver born composer and cellist continues to develop her practice of looping and layering densely woven strings with almost subliminal electronic additions. Kent has scored a number of motion pictures and at times this feels like the soundtrack for a moving yet unsentimental romantic movie. The use of field recordings, only adds to the cinematic feel. That’s not to say there’s anything remotely route one about Kent’s compositions. On the obsessively circling strings of “Tourbillon” or the deep, uneasy lurch of “Kingdom,” the single mindedness with which she will pursue a melodic idea can take you by surprise. These are subtle and evocative pieces, which recall the spare beauty of Stanley Meyers or Howard Shore.
 

 
Jake and Dinos Chapman are notorious art world provocateurs. Their genuinely thrilling sculptures, paintings and installations confronting a multitude of taboos head on. And it’s always seemed clear that the likes of Throbbing Gristle, Wire and The Dead Kennedys had as much of an influence on their work as George Bataille or Hans Bellmer. Here Dinos strikes out with a debut album of dark, playful electronica. And there are indeed trace elements of Throbbing Gristle circa 20 Jazz Funk Greats in the bubble and click of “Cool Operator” or the mournful longing of “He Has No Method.” Chapman has a knack for sonic transformation and just as you think you have a track pinned, he mutates it further. Something highlighted when the relatively funky “Smeyes” goes through a series of strange digressions.
 

 
No one could reasonably claim that Mazzy Star’s fourth album sees the band striking out into unchartered territory. The 16 year hiatus since 1997’s Among My Swan hasn’t resulted in one iota of change in the band’s sound. Thank God. Hope Sandoval’s voice remains soulful and lovelorn and David Roback’s languid lead guitar lines still shine with liquid beauty. The sound may sometimes be a little more pared down than before, but nevertheless this is another gorgeous collection of peerless psych- tinged country. And the really good news is that in the limpid “In The Kingdom,” the gently coiling “Common Burn” and the sparse “Sparrow,” with its delicate harpsichord middle eight, Mazzy Star have recorded three of the very finest songs of their career.
 

 
The second album from The Fauns sees them truly master their aesthetic. Their mix of distorted yet melodic guitar scree and vocalist Alison Garner’s breathy urgency work perfectly together. At points they remind me of the severely under-rated Curve. And, like Curve, they understand the art of big builds and emotional release. Album closer “Give Me Your Love” even has something of the Lou Reed of Street Hassle about it, with its circling acoustic guitar and matter of fact lyric. The Fauns are frequently referred to as a shoegaze band, perhaps implying the studied detachment of that genre. But this is fiercely engaged music that shines with power and sensuality. The feast of guitar distortion isn’t there to disguise a lack of tunes. Far from it - the Fauns have a knack of crafting memorable and affecting songs.
 

 
If you delight in the work of Arvo Part, Hilmar Orn Hilmarsson or Sigor Ros, then there’s a strong chance you’ll enjoy Juliana Barwick’s music. With sustained strings, ethereal, often wordless vocals and spacious piano figures, her third album is a gentle and emotionally engaging song cycle. Up to now, Barwick has always worked alone. But Nepenthe includes contributions from guitarist Robert Sturla Reynisson, string players amiina and a teenage girls choir. Sigor Ros producer Alex Somers has also expanded on the sound of Barwick’s previous releases, giving her songs more space to breath than ever before. But despite these developments, her singular vision remains intact. These are wraithlike compositions, moving at a stately pace, searching for transcendence, as Barwick’s looped and layered vocals swim to the surface and submerge again.
 

 
In a relatively short space of time, Deerhunter have risen through the ranks and are now official US underground royalty, spoken of in the same breath as Yo La Tengo, Low or Flaming Lips. An extremely powerful and seductive live act who, over the course of five albums of psych-art-rock, have seldom put a foot wrong. Following on from 2010’s rightly acclaimed Halcyon Digest, new album Monomania pushes the band into more shadowy areas. There’s a real tension to a lot of the tracks and the production has some rougher edges than before. But it isn’t all darkness. Check out the sun-soaked psychedelic shimmer of “The Missing,” or the smart alec- bop of “Dream Captain,” which oddly recalls both Todd Rundgren and prime era Pixies. Monomania proves that main man Bradford Cox still has ideas and hooks to spare.
 

 
Having saddled his recording project with a name better suited to an uninspiring Goth band, Bobby Krlic proceeds to explore areas undreamt of by the average Goth. It would be too easy to say The Haxen Cloak’s third album feels like the soundtrack to a horror film - with the concomitant suggestion of cheap shocks. Rather, Krlic seems genuinely concerned with evoking the unearthly and the supernatural in his work. This album presents a far more digital sound than on previous Haxen outings, with a bigger emphasis on bass. But Krlic’s signature remains, and, to these ears, The Haxen Cloak sound as if they belong in the tradition of the best British Industrial groups. There are moments such as “Miste,” which remind me of Clock DVA’s “Buried Dreams,” and, on the brooding drift of “Excavation (Part 1),” or the ever-evolving “The Mirror Reflection (Part 2),” Krlic comes close to the brilliance of Coil circa “Astral Disaster.”
 

 
With their down tempo beats, grainy synth tones, ghostly male and female vocals and otherworldly strings, oOoOO manage to be both glitchy and soulful. Without Your Love is an album best suited to late night listening – as song titles such as “3.51 am” and “5.51am” testify – and, on the deeply undulating “On It,” it appears that they’re mining a similar darkly romantic seam as 100th Window era Massive Attack. Meanwhile, the burr and stutter of “Mouchette” contains echoes of Burial’s spectral dancehall sounds. The strangest track here is the beatless “Crossed Wires” where a host of Raudive voices repeatedly emerge and submerge into clouds of static and vinyl surface noise. This is a moody, minimal yet detailed album with a very strong identity.
 

 
An album of exquisite pieces for piano. The spacious and deceptively simple “Cage of Shadows,” “Crepuscule” and “Air Cerulian” sound like they could be worthy additions to Erik Satie’s sublime Gymnopédies series. Whereas the gently swimming tones of “Mysterious Lights” recall mid period Harold Budd. But Haigh has a strong sensibility all his own. Not least of which is his constant interweaving of tiny melodic hooks. Aside from his albums of minimal piano work, Haigh has also released atmospheric drum and bass as Omni Trio and Ligeti styled drones as Sema, as well as collaborating with arch experimentalists Nurse With Wound. However, Darkling Streams with its intimate sparkle, is not only his finest solo piano album since 1987’s Valentine Out Of Season, it may just be his masterpiece.
 

 
Mark E. Smith’s desire to experiment with musical forms, and the notion of form itself, remains undiminished. However, it’s the fact he keeps one eye firmly locked on the primal excitements of rock and roll that makes The Fall so continually essential. Re-Mit is the most sonically varied album The Fall have released in several years. “Jetplane” mixes martial drums with perky keyboards, while “Noise” and “Pre-MDMA Years” see Smith experimenting with improvised spoken word, tape collage and dissonant synths. Stand out tracks include ‘Irish’ and ‘Loadstones’ where Peter Greenway executes some decidedly Zoot Horn Rollo styled guitar figures. In fact, the last time the influence of Captain Beefheart and His Magic Band was writ quite so large, was probably on 1979’s Dragnet. Which isn’t to say this is an exercise in either homage or nostalgia. Re-Mit is as fiercely forward-looking an album as The Fall have ever released.
 

 
Wire have always crafted art-rock of the highest order. And yet, beneath the angular arrangements, oblique lyrics and experimental edge, there have been frequent sightings of a glorious psychedelic pop band. A band as much in thrall to the Beatles as to the more astringent noises of the post punk aesthetic, which Wire themselves, helped define. With Change Becomes Us they have plugged into their distinctly non-retro psychedelic sensibilities as never before.

On songs such as the gently undulating “B/W Silence,” Colin Newman’s vocal lines have a Syd Barrett quality, which only enhances the strange beauty at the heart of Wire’s sound. “Reinvent Your Second Wheel” is a majestic composition in the manner of “Kidney Bingos,” with an aching vocal melody from Graham Lewis and a lyric which manages to be both impenetrable and heartbreaking. The way Newman and Lewis’ voices are layered and heavily treated throughout the album recalls their vocal work on the groundbreaking 154. The highlight here may well be “Adore Your Island,” which opens up like The Who’s “Baba O’Riley” in a parallel universe, before surging into a wall of precisely thrashing guitar and back out the other side.

With a lush production enhanced by strong colours from Newman’s mellotron, a multitude of ideas and smart sequencing, this is a faultless collection of songs. Change Becomes Us is Wire’s 12th studio album. And, if it’s not the best album they’ve ever made, then it’s certainly in the top two.