At other times, they appear to be aiming for an approximation of early trash metal channelled through an old Mac, replacing volcanic guitars with the kind of chiming, burbling synths that wouldn’t be out of place on a Playstation soundtrack. A plethora of ideas and influences, then, but they don’t always pull them together seamlessly. Self-produced and sounding it, the record may have benefitted from a little outside experience and nous. Vincent Murray’s vocals, too, are definitely an acquired taste – an atonal wail, much like a Corkonian Mark E. Smith attempting to croon. It lends proceedings a sinister, corrupted air, the rain on Indian Summer’s parade, but also serves to make it quite a challenging, tough listen. Luckily, their clear talent and ear for melody shines through for the majority of the album, particularly on ‘Get Over You’ and the closing number ‘Indian Summer (Keep Growing)’, where Murray’s voice and Eoghan Reid’s guitars suddenly combine and intertwine to stunning effect. Abrasive but occasionally intoxicating. Flawed but compelling. Here be a lot of potential.