Norwegian experimentalist Jenny Hval and her husband-guitarist, Håvard Volden, are Lost Girls, named after Alan Moore’s infamously indecorous 90s porno-graphic novel. Although the sexual exploits of Alice in Wonderland, Dorothy from Oz and Peter Pan’s Wendy are thankfully absent here, Hval’s thoughts, as ever, centre on creativity, femininity and art. Lost Girls’ debut, Menneskekollektivet (Norwegian for “human collective”), married electronic dance textures to Hval’s musings on the dialogue between creator and consumer. Selvutsletter (“self-destruct”) has more familiar song structures but sustains a bracingly adventurous mood.

Gothic, brooding Ruins is superb, a fabulously austere confection, its pendulous bass shivering under icy drums as Hval’s gorgeous voice glides over all. Otherwise, the duo too often arrange a confrontation between singer and song rather than the collusion this seemingly semi-improvised music requires. It’s the more conventional songs that appeal, such as June 1996’s nostalgic, pastoral indie or the cute harmonies and tasty guitar propelling With the Other Hand. While technically accomplished, Selvutsletter doesn’t do enough with its occasional moments of wonder – the glorious chorus of Hvals that arise during Sea White, for one – to justify its many lengthy, meandering sections.