They are subtle shapeshifters of synth driven post-punk. At their core, we find unorthodox art rock for which Talking Heads and Pere Ubu belong, but it is stretched taut like taffy into trance-inducing, long form motorik musings. Singular vocals act as a secondary percussion. Bass lines double as a metronome heartbeat. Guitars zigzag inside a monochromatic prism. Linnear drums hammer the band's abstract narrative into a carefully crafted double-helix staircase spiraling up into ambitious avant-garde territory. Cantankerous poetry minus the Mancunian snarl of Mark E Smith behaves as a modern day deadbeat descendant making good. In short, making very very good.