We live in a sanitised world. It’s rubbish most of the time. In fact, apart from when I’m off my tree thanks to my various medicines it’s rubbish all the time. Music is one of my medicines, and Coilguns have come up with a very strong dose of the good stuff with Millennials.

In short, they don’t appear to give a fuck. They take their song titles from Wikipedia articles, they set up and record anywhere – not just in recording studios – whenever the muse takes them by the scruff of the neck. They invest their music with some sort of magic jism that is totally unique.

Of course that means that to most people the bulk of Millennials will be unlistenable. And that’s OK, because most people will never be able to go beyond waiting for their order for the newest smart phone to turn up, or for whatever horrific pop star the media demand that we consume.

But for the few, the brave for whom the mainstream holds nothing but desolation and contempt, Millennials is a bleak but ultimately satisfying call to arms, a benign if scabrous reminder that there are people out there who are as fed up with the whole modus operandi as is as you are. It’s a cold light in the even colder unending darkness of just being in 2018.

Reviewing albums such as this is essentially pointless; the band don’t care what I think, and the songs as they stand couldn’t have been constructed any farther away from the general relationship of band to critic if they tried. Suffice to say if you find yourself regularly listening to acts like Dillinger and Botch you’ll find enough of interest here to keep thing lively between the ears and warrant a purchase.

The title track and Deletionism stand out as being particularly worthy of note, especially the latter, whilst fans of the brutal end of post-punk might find themselves drawn to Spectrogram, with it’s mangy drum rolls and echoing guitar lines taking the listener back to 1982 in a pall of batcave-remembrance and cheap cider hangover chic. Similarly Killing Joke fans may find elements of the very heavy Ménière’s pleasing.

You might have guessed by now that I love this stuff. But I’m not about to recommend it to anyone other than the similarly damaged and disillusioned. You’ll have to make the decision to take a chance on this yourselves.