BSP are celebrated for their eccentric stage presence – they like to play while camouflaged as twigs – and a fondness for stuffed owls. What tends (understandably) to be overlooked is the subtle brilliance of their music: a slow and reflective evocation of solitude and suffering. Where The Killers and Interpol play karaoke with Joy Division’s legacy, BSP pay closer attention: ‘It Ended On An Oily Stage’ is a funereal romp that would make marble weep. That’s a recommendation, by the way.