When a young ex soldier met an emerging music producer a couple of years ago in a East London bar, the resulting casual musical collaboration took them completely by surprise. Their first song emerged almost as a whole piece; a distinct shape and sound. Less created, more discovered.

‘We gave ourselves a shock,’ says J, the production half of the electronic duo. It was, they believe, a riff from a future place, ‘an authentic experience’ (That’s L, whose guitar speaks grunge, rock and pop. Not always in equal parts.)

The band feels indie, but with a consistent electronic sophistication. Drums are urban. Synths are tech, rave and dance. Bass is deep, wobbly, dirty. This is a hybridised noise.

But its unmistakable heart is the song-writing. Hopeful. Joyful. Occasionally yearning. Words that come from the plains, the red earth, and summer rain of childhood. Words that come from the rub and ebb of grown-up life in a big city. Thoughts jostle, bouncing against high-low vocals and layered, New York reverb. Gold. Hollywood. A skipping rope. A lost masterpiece. But, as the chorus builds, tension and dark notes yield to the rhythm of hope and light. ‘Just sit on this rock, instead of chaos…’