THE presets - apocalypso

‘Kicking and Screaming’ is something of a misleading opener, from what is essentially an LP of techno-crunching, gurn-tastic floor fillers. Said track creeps in upon a wave of sinister synths, and when Julian Hamilton’s grappling vocals eventually come in, they sound something like Interpol’s Paul Banks – all deadpan and black of heart. It’s a smart move from a band who’ve always stood on the outskirts of nu-rave, dipping their toes in whilst sporting a knowing look towards the future – rather than dwelling on haircuts and hideous fabrics. ‘My People’ and ‘Together’ are as close to their former selves as The Presets come; they’re both on the beat, arms-aloft affairs capable of inciting mass dancing. It’s hard to believe that half the album was recorded in a remote Australian farm. Elsewhere, the piano, waif-like in ‘This Boy’s In Love’, adds a necessary human element, while the over-energetic ‘Eucalyptus’ proves that sometimes it’s possible to step too heavily on the gas. To their credit, they avoid bright and poppy territory, instead opting for minor keys and filthy basslines. Apocalypso is a work you could only imagine streaming live from a sweat filled warehouse party, and it’s all the more exciting for it.