Trojan Horse
Meat Eater (RAK Singles Club)

Like a prisoner granted a brief conjugal visit, the new single from these self-confessed “noisy prog rock bastards” packs a lot of activity into a short space of time. At various points over the course of its 209-second duration it resembles XTC, the Fall, Supergrass, the Crazy World Of Arthur Brown, the Beach Boys in space and Queens Of The Stone Age soundtracking a row about dietary requirements in the Knutsford branch of Little Chef. “She’s a meat eater!” they yell. “Daddy is a veggie!” Which shouldn’t really be an issue in this day and age, they’ve got Quorn frankfurters and everything.

ALSO OUT THIS WEEK

I See Monstas
Circles (Polydor)

Do you like Rudimental but feel that their drops are too subtle, their choruses simply not melodramatic enough? Then let me introduce you to sometime Ellie Goulding producers I See Monstas, whose overly emoted sermon for the day is that “Life moves in circles, keeps turning around.” And there I was thinking that life was a rollercoaster. Or a minestrone. Oh well, nothing like a bit of po-faced MOR’n’bass to put you right.

Fuse ODG Feat Angel
TINA (3Beat)

In a world of oversexed R&B crooners telling you exactly what they’re going to do to you after the cluuub whether you like it or not, Fuse ODG’s cheery innocence is refreshing. “She hurt my head, oh mama,” he sings, touchingly implying that the object of his affections is so beautiful she’s given him a migraine. Turns out TINA is not a lady at all, but an acronym for This Is New Africa – which explains why Fuse was sparing with the bedroom chat; even Robin Thicke would balk at leching on an entire continent.

Palace
Bitter (Beatnik)

What with a Jamie T support slot under their belts, an echo-drenched sound reminiscent of early Foals and an incredibly posh person wrestling with the pronunciation of the word “bitter”, Palace are something of a 2007 indie revival act. To be fair, they’re good; Bitter is full of beguiling chords and subtly audacious tempo changes, like a more approachable Wild Beasts. And there’s the rub: listen to the weird, righteous fury of the Beasts’ own Wanderlust and then wonder if you can imagine anything quite so vital issuing from the mouth of someone whose dad runs Sothebys.

Niia
Body (Something Local)

Niia’s career has never recovered from an early association with Wyclef Jean but she seems to have found her saviour in the form of Danish producer Robin Hannibal of the groups Rhye and Quadron, a man ensuring that there are now more moody white people making tasteful soul music than at any time since the high trousermark of May 1987. Arguably, Niia’s voice is a little too perfect, like a replicant Jessie Ware or a GM Feist. But if you’re hoping to seduce an operating system at some point this weekend, this should be on your sex-mix.