Four albums under the belt with the inclusion of Sirens, Nina Black Alps have teetered on the brink of a trendier following; a bigger following, but despite all that, the band have upheld a respectful career over the past decade which has revolved around churning out the same sounding Grungy-guitar led tracks in a period entirely unsuspecting of their sound.

It’s a bizarre start, as Be My Girl, Sirens’ arguably dullest, most regimented track kicks things off; set, in bizarre consequence, next to one of the more distinguishable, lavish and canonical tracks: Don’t Forget to Breathe: these two tracks welcome Sirens, and force a necessary bridge between now and prior albums. If out-of-touch punk-rock was home made wine, Sirens leaves us with the dregs of the bottle; it is almost entirely reminiscent of the flatter moments of their heyday, an effortless mediocrity.

I’m not sure what happens after the first few tracks. I confess, this may be due to my not realising tracks 3-12 weren’t ‘the same long one’.

As if this album needing peppering with ‘experimentalism’, outro Another World seems to drag itself sloppily into an extra thirty seconds of glitchy-eurghhhness in order to make it’s point.

Which was probably to wake up those who feel into comatose states somewhere in the weary depths between track two and two and a half.

No one’s kidding anyone, least of all this four piece from Manc, who go nowhere responsive, but do, perhaps, mildly remove from the lashy histrionics of Burn Faster and Not Everyone with this part-time bearable older brother; part-time bore of an uncle album.

All this aside, there isn’t enough offense available to deter Nine Black Alps sentimentalists, who will hail it as another ‘classic’.