The Invisible Invasion suggests something is rotten in the world of The Coral. Not quality-wise: this collection of vintage scouseadelica, spooked Mariachi stomp and creaking, dub-inflected garage clatter is at least as proficient and ideas-packed as their 2002 debut, and a damn sight better than the stripped-down, somewhat messy stopgap that was 2004’s Nightfreak And The Sons Of Becker.

Rather, the third full-length from this Hoylake sextet sees them steer their tattered galleon into darker waters, penning songs like "She Sings The Mourning" and "A Warning To The Curious" filled to the brim with bad vibes, an unhealthy preoccupation with death and disease, and guitar solos that coil and uncoil like a hat full of maggots. Sterling tunes aplenty, but in particular, frontman James Skelly stands out here, thanks to his evident delight for dark imagery both superstitious - "An open door on the 13th floor/Conspiracy on the corridor," goes "Cripples Crown" – and plain deranged: "Can you dance with the lepers in the madman’s house?" he barks, over and over, as "Arabian Sand" barrels to a bug-eyed close. --Louis Pattison