Success obviously hasn't made life any easier for JJ72, who continue to be bewitched by Joy Division and consumed with misery. Their scope is epic and the atmosphere claustrophobic, their beautiful melodies haunted by insecurity and bursting with frustration.
Lord of the doomed dance is Mark Greaney, who squeezes bitterness even from loving sentiments, and whose falsetto vocals range from toddler-tantrum rage to a helium-addicted Laurence Olivier, all clipped edges and mannered tones.
Hilary Woods' basslines slip and slide, as if looking for a way out of the sadness; they moan through Sinking, as the guitars get edgier and build to a frenzied climax. It's all very polished and assured but, in trying so hard to be meaningful, JJ72 obscure their truths and muddle their music needlessly.
