Frankfurt Advice’s post funk punk rhythm takes a deep breath but soldiers on when the disquieting sound of the trumpet playing in the next room intrudes and remains firmly in control despite momentarily stumbling over an unruly guitar. The Confidence Man’s self-assured top line collapses in on itself and the loosened beats enjoy a gentle unrestrained boogie atop the solid bassline before the vocal’s final hymnic retreat.

The upside of Weatherall’s promiscuous attitude to music is the sheer joy when it all comes into focus on We Count The Stars. The trumpet returns but this time it’s the soaring sprit of the song which strains against a deeply anchored bassline. The message of abandonment in the verse is thwarted by the obstinate optimism of the key refrain and there’s a sense of resolution as the song ends and melds into the blissful Thirteenth Night.