After solo flurries, Aidan Moffat and Malcolm Middleton return to their day job of documenting seedy, inebriated nightlife. On recent work, they seemed to lose their way, lapsing into droning charmlessness (the initially amusing drunk you can’t shake off), but this is a step upmusically more diverse, and lyrically as vulnerable as it is vitriolic. Over cunning club beats and plaintive post-rock, yarns are told of shy and retiring lonely brooders, the sexually frustrated, highly vocal pub bores, and, to give you the third track’s title, “Fucking Little Bastards”. Members of Bright Eyes and Mogwai guest. They may have been bought a drink. Under Milk Wood meets Mark E Smith, with flock wallpaper.
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