Here’s how it started: I approached ‘Club Foot’ with a totally open mind. Whatever was said before about Kasabian was ignored; whatever was posted on these boards was scratched from the record. For 20 seconds I was a purely blank canvas, awaiting the moment when a truly excellent opening - and it is an excellent opening - gave way to something exquisite, something that truly deserved the tabloid hyperbole and weekly purple prose that’s come the way of these Midlanders since day one.

Here’s what happened next: give Kasabian a blank canvas and they’ll fill it with the most immediately aesthetically satisfying but utterly inspirationally vacant piece of tat around. ‘Club Foot’ is in your face all right, but packs all the punch of a freshly discarded wank rag - the pleasure’s over in seconds, but the stench remains until the offending item is binned.

Here’s how it ended: a minute in, the sticky mess is ejected. Really, who gets off on this insufferable toss?