ANY album which starts with a threatening, electronically distorted voice demanding you “take my pants off”, “smell my socks” and “eat my face off”, is going to set you on edge from the get go. However, once the unease settles and the bass line of opening track Mask Maker kicks in, there’s little to differentiate Liars’ particular brand of electronic dance from anything else on the market.

Throughout Mess, including tracks like Pro Anti Anti, there’s a general air of menace or dread, driven by the idea that this album is an angry reaction to being overwhelmed by too many choices. Tracks are endless loops of synth and bass with half-intelligible vocals moaned throughout which indicates they have a lot to say, even if they haven’t found the clearest way of actually saying anything.

Boyzone creates a jittery soundscape which wouldn’t be out of place in a British thriller, and finale Left Speaker Blown is a sombre, gentle ending to an album that wouldn’t have been out of place in Chris Morris’ Blue Jam, but arrives too late here to make much of an impact.