The music of Drum Eyes is mad. Not in an ostentatious, or a frivolous, unsettling way; it just seems to be the product of a group with plenty of talent who have realised that a lot of modern music bores them. This particular collective is loosely centred on Shigeru Ishihara (better known to some as DJ Scotch Egg) and E-Da (the Ex-Boredoms drummer) and it’s quite something, if you’re prepared for it.

It’s cosmic. It has loads of odd beeps, synth swirls and a whole load of flange. It’s bombastic and none too subtle and damnit it makes for a good record. These guys move through textures assuredly but not before giving you time to stew in each particular mood and there’s enough instrumental complexity to completely lose yourself in.

The songs can feel like quite disparate affairs, and there is certainly plenty of sonic territory covered. ’Future Police’ is a grinding, sinister piece that borders on being a demented chip tune, whilst ‘Future Yakuza’ is a much heavier affair. Pounding drums, inchoate yells; it has all the ingredients of noisecore, and just when you think you might have the measure of the record, the excellent ‘Gyanza’ throws up some Fuck Buttons esque soundscapes and is probably the highlight of the album. ‘Hana-B’ is more sedate and demonstrates aptly that Drum Eyes can dial it down and still impress.

The individual songs are multi-faceted affairs that feel out of place considered in isolation, though this is by no means a bad thing. Admittedly this isn’t a record that lends itself well to dipping in and out of, but it’s not quite so dense or ambient that you can’t enjoy swathes of it without sitting down in a darkened room with expensive headphones and listening to the whole thing start to finish. The main thing that does tie the songs together is how they reconcile melody with long sequences that are much more visceral.

If this record has a problem it’s that things can get a little bit confused at time, the layers of sound obscuring a clear direction of letting the melody breathe. ’13 Magicians’ is the worst offender; a little too abrasive without an appropriate payoff. Having said that it is absolutely by no means a crippling weakness and for many will simply be part and parcel of such inventive song writing.

Gira Gira loosely translates as ‘bling bling’, or perhaps it’s a reference to the Japanese drama based around a hostess bar of the same name. I’m not sure if either are appropriate in the slightest but somehow it doesn’t need to make sense to work, and I can only think Ishihara would agree with me. It’s what makes this album so good, and rewarding on repeated listens. Domo arigato Gira Gira!