In Dust, the second album by Swedish duo Malcolm Pardon and Peder Mannerfelt aka Roll The Dice, follows on from last year’s self-titled debut which gathered the group quiet murmurings of acclaim. Not too surprising given the common ground it shared with some of the most-blogged sounds of 2010, bracketed with the likes of Oneohtrix Point Never and Emeralds; it is all komische pounding loops and krautrock rhythms whilst still managing to retain quite a singular aesthetic recognisable as their own.

The two continue in similar fashion here, but the thing which makes In Dust really stand apart from their earlier work is the intense atmosphere and sense of imagery it’s imbued with. A characteristic most likely informed by Pardon’s background in TV and film composition, perhaps as well as Mannerfelt’s time as a touring member of the ever melodramatic Fever Ray. The artwork tells a big part of the story here: the smoking factory chimney in the background and the huddled mass of exhausted workers (possibly so exhausted because they’ve had to listen to this record all day). Yes initially the duos overbearing style can seem rather trying; the siren like rhythms and incessant mechanical grinding are often difficult to digest, but gradually it will wear you down and almost forces you to surrender to immersion.

Proceedings begin with a subtle enough invitation as the gentle whirring of eight minute opener ‘Iron Bridge’ gradually swells into a hypnotic movement and then the tolling bell which begins ‘Calling All Workers’ leads into a subtly frantic syncopated melee of keys. The title of the latter tells you all need to know about the tone of the album, as a sense of bleak industrialism and oppression are key in the configuration of In Dust.

Further on, ‘The Skull Is Built Into The Tool’ is a fairly grim listen; smokey piano spiralling around the timed march of order and productivity. ‘Maelstrom’ furthers a feeling of dread, that polluted cramped atmosphere invoking images of sweat shops or crowded factories. It shares an overbearing sense of paranoia with some of Vangelis’ soundtrack work, the most notable example of course being Blade Runner because, although In Dust is made up entirely by analogue sounds, it also feels distinctly futuristic.

‘Way Out’ is allowed more freedom and is noticeably looser as it flutters around, almost threatening to break out of the shackles completely and take off towards some much needed climax, but never quite getting the release it craves by this point. Closer ‘See You Monday’ has a comparatively lighter tone, and I guess in terms of the thematic structure you would expect so but by this stage the tone has been so stringently established that it is jarringly out of place.

Whilst In Dust provides an interesting form of retro-futurism born from the clash between use of analogue equipment and the often futuristic sounds being created, it is frustratingly one-paced. Yes, it is evocative and intricately constructed with a clear development throughout but it still remains that listening to the sounds of industry is an experience which requires more of a studious appreciation than it does an explicit enjoyment. It can be deemed too workman-like in its execution and lacking the flair of emotional investment, making it nevertheless interesting and certainly worthwhile but far from essential listening.