This wants to be played loud. Less of an album, more 10 little tornados diving straight underneath your skin; perfectly-formed three-minute riot calls to each cell in your body, shredding and reassembling human emotion. Through loss to triumph, from violence to calming bliss, they proudly show off the shared bloodtype with the likes of Oceansize and Lapsus Linguae, while taking you into their own personal darkness.

Feverfrenzy poses as drums. Gut-wrenching delirium calls itself guitars. Angels shoot up unholy water, then chase you down dark alleyways for your soul. That's the strings.

And through all of it, low-lit vocals signpost the way, sometimes backtracking, sometimes candle-flickering, but always there on an aural road so richly textured it's almost visible.

Get in, put your safety belt on. Share a drink with your prettiest nightmares in the back. There go Death and Sandman. Here The Bends waves by. Get in. It's a beautiful hell of a ride.