Being the actual David Cronenberg's wife must be a fairly scary existence. You'd probably find yourself attempting total immersion in the mundane in an attempt to forget about those new surgical instruments your husband has been developing on his drawing board. You'd spend your time doing the dishes, or watching whatever banal soap opera is on the tube so you can squash the image of him crouched over his starkly illuminated drawing board cackling in the dark as he produces yet another body horror curve ball. Best not to think about those teleportation pods either, or that freak teddy bear you keep in the basement in that box. She'd try not to think about those things, she'd try to live a normal life, and yet sometimes, the madness creeps in and mixes with the banality. Sometimes it's funny and sometimes it is downright scary but it is never boring.Maybe the truth is much more straight forward than that”¦it probably is.This David Cronenberg's Wife however, well, this band really do mix the banal and the extraordinary and although it's rarely scary, Hypnagogues can be an unsettling listen (the woozy Irish folk of 'In the Limo' knocks you off balance) but it can also be a witty humourous affair too (tales of ordering pints of fish oil in the pub so that singer Tom Mayne can extend his life to a ripe 124 years).The balance between the absurd and the disturbed is always stretched on Hypnagogues and the band never seems to quite commit one way or the other, which is something of a boon all round. Had the band settled on a distinctive persona a song like 'Body To Sleep With' might just be a little too worrying. As it is, the clear humour that permeates the lyrics allows for this particularly sensitive subject to be delivered with a sneaky grin. It is also wrapped in a gloriously dirty rolling punk riff, adorned with a grimy seething keyboard which just makes it all the better.The band is clearly influenced by a multitude of smart-arsed art-rock bands. At any given point you could spot elements of The Fall, Half Man Half Biscuit, Art Brut, or The Velvet Underground in DCW's sound. Hell, even Bob Dylan (Jailbird) gets channelled effectively at certain times during Hypnagogues. The important thing is, that with one notable exception, David Cronenberg's Wife is very aware of their influences and manage to make their songs stand on their own rather than stagger around on stolen ideas and pinched riffs.Even when they go out of their way to assimilate their heroes they do so as homage rather than pastiche. The Lou Reed Song doffs its cap towards Mr Reed, borrows a few chops from Sister Ray (among others) and allows Mayne to indulge in his obsession.Hypnagogues is awash with pop culture references, cynicism ("every time I think of you, I see a man between your legs Mayne sings on the appropriately spiky stomp of Fight Song"), dark humour, and lashings of the darker side of life. It's dour, witty, achingly clever, and every second is enjoyable. So like the real deal, this David Cronenberg's Wife experiences the full gamut of life's experience with an open mind and heart.