Do you ever feel like music isn’t loud enough these days? That it’s not raw enough, bold enough, that it’s too detached? Or perhaps you feel the opposite; that modern music shouts without saying anything, postures without breaking boundaries, and fails to take account of what people are really feeling out there? Whatever your persuasion, if you’re a musical malcontent, The Oscillation’s third album is for you.

From Tomorrow is drenched in a wall of distortion and growling guitars that makes the record feel volatile and dangerous; yet somehow it is full of shapeless, weightless moments that make it come across as startlingly disconnected with any concrete reality. The energy and dynamism of punk protest and grunge attitude is seamlessly blended with an ethereal, intoxicated blurring of sometimes chaotic soundscapes.

The album’s final track, ‘Out of Touch’, not only continues the band’s penchant for naming their tracks after pre-existing popular classics (their previous album Veils featured a track entitled ‘Sandstorm’), but it also embodies this deliberate evasion of reality. The mournfulness which pervades the track, along with the gentle, wave-like rolls of cymbals, make you feel as if you have just been washed up on a deserted beach. It’s a desolate and delicate waltz on the sand.

But From Tomorrow is far from dominated by this fleeting fragility. The eerie melange of aggression and suspense on ‘Corridors’ (Part One and Part Two) melds tension and mystery with a world of distorted guitar, diving bass and a heavy dose of testosterone. ‘No Place to Go’ builds upon this sonic masculinity, with gritty solos and enough attitude to make you feel as if you can hear the growl of exhausts and the screech of tyres on tarmac. It feels bold, assertive and unequivocal.

The striking thing about From Tomorrow is the fineness that rescues what could otherwise be a crass or dull record full of droning guitar and the occasional twiddle of synth. The Oscillation are often labeled as psychedelic, but that term comes with a lot of baggage that, in this case, is largely undeserved. The extravagance and chaos that is so often implied by the term is completely absent from this album.

Although The Oscillation might create surreal adventures into sometimes disturbed regions of the psyche (their own, or their listener’s– you decide), the production is slick and refined. There is no excess. There is simply economy. The intense and often overwhelming experiences it creates are not the product of chaos of disorder – it is clear that every sound here is carefully curated. Every clink, every growl, every beep seems perfectly placed to create maximum impact.

In essence, From Tomorrow does not make for easy listening. But that is far from the point. The marriage of noise and delicacy is one that manages to both make a musical statement and be truly emotional, thanks to the obvious craftsmanship of the band. At its most intense, From Tomorrow is an example chaos born of order and madness created by precision. And that is a thing of beauty.