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‘Lingering’ is not a word you would ever use to describe Danish neo-psychedelic group Pinkunoizu. Aside from their comprehensive range of international ties – the pseudo-Japanese naming, the Copenhagen-via-Berlin residences – their sound is something that evokes strident spontaneity without being overtly out of control.

It’s frantic; never deliberating nor pausing for breath and their second album follows this conviction unapologetically, quite literally when you learn that it was only recorded in a week. Its hazy allure greets you like an old friend, yet simultaneously the album is tinged with unfamiliarity, as if the tracks themselves have no idea where they are headed. The quartet ooze cosmic sass in every groove, but never hang around long enough to repeat themselves, unless of course you count the stuttering interlude of ‘The Swollen Map’, or the bolshie, convulsive riff on ‘Tin Can Valley’, which I don’t.

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