This reviewer isn’t afraid to admit that The Legendary Pink Dots were, prior to Seconds Late for The Brighton Line, unknown to him despite having released over 40 albums since the early ’80s.

Formed by core members Edward Ka-spel and Phil Night, the world of TLPD is one of creepy, synthn driven paranoia. Ka-Spel is the definite star; his whiny frail vocals and increasingly candid paranoia recall Lydon and, you’d imagine, were an influence on Jack Barnett of These New Puritans.

This is properly scary music, not the kind of thing it’d be wise to listen to whilst walking home on a misty Autumn evening and there is a genuine sense of the unexpected vocally with the ideas are carried through with aplomb by the rest of the band.

The opening ‘Russian Roulette’ features a counted motif and as the numbers rise so does the tension, a shuddering backing of synths and toms lead him into a final, taunting “your number’s up/the chips are down/you thought you’d counted, you thought you’d counted”, it’s cold but oddly engaging stuff.

As well as any Lydon comparison, musically P.I.L are a valid touchstone; the swells of sound, the jagged edges, the power to hold the attention are all present on ‘Leap of Faith’, an early stand out which features the rather wonderful chorus of “Really feel alone now/I really need a hug/maybe more I’d clean the floor for/your contaminated love” before the tension dissipates into ambience.

‘No Star Too Far’, opens with some rather Warp-esque beats and goes on to cram in all manner of spaced out carnage in it’s 9 minutes of Kraut-rock, including, if these ears aren’t mistaken, a number of stylophone solos. The following ‘Someday’ is a much more sedate affair, yet Ka-spel is even more sinister when sounding happy and content.

Only two of the nine tracks on display here fail to hit the 6 minute mark but there doesn’t feel like there is much flab on the entire album, each composition is given room to breathe and eek it’s way into the consciousness. ‘God and Machines’ switches from moody spoken word to frenetic, almost jazz percussion and then segues back in, Ka-spel’s now unmistakable tones anchoring the chaos around him. And as the last moments of the 13 minute Eno-esque ‘Ascension’ fade away the only problem seems to be which of the extensive back catalogue to try next

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