Here, the North-east new-wave revivalists refresh their default angular moves with nervy propulsion (“Give, Get, Take”), elegant synth-pop (“Brain Cells”) and electro-glide reflections (“Is it True?”). At the centre, a book-ish outsiders’ taste for lyrics resembling reading lists holds firm. Lapses into rote mosh-jobs (“Her Name Was Audre”, “My Bloody Mind”) let them down, but tributes to local libraries and recommended writers (Lydia Davis, Roberto Bolaño) prove they remain the kind of inquisitive band who couldn’t give a monkey’s about charges of pretension. And that’s always worth toasting. Independent

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