So being forlornly forgotten in the general scheme of things may be oh so achingly GOTH, what? as is hailing from West Yorkshire. However, this rather less sinister than some other families that may spring to mind on a speed-drilled bass-line, are all this and more. Sweep the obvious, but patently flawed, comparisons to early eighties Siouxsieinto a pile of sackcloth and ashes, helpfully provided by your friendly porter, looking remarkably like the shadow that inhabited one Andrew Eldritch circa 1985, when this debut was released. Sinewy guitar slime dripping from cathedral ruins, taut Achilles tendon basses bulging under paisley shirts, icily strident Iceni battle-cry vocals atop frantic drumming surges through soaring verses culminating in out-of-body choruses that put any accusations of fey, goth arpeggio-pastoralism to the funeral pyre. Yeah, they had a female frontispiece-person, but in staring-out Bauhaus' In Fear Of Fear in the sax-stakes onHands On The Clock and Move and managing to stay steadfastly in trench-slime without getting wrapped up in eighties production falsehoods, whilst unleashing a disco apocalypso rush pretty much throughout, snapping at patron Eldritch's Sisters Of Murky's purse stings like Alice and Body Electric...and, in What Happened?, providing possibly the most bizarre turn-around in recent recorded history, it being a chirpy pop ditty of the type Colonel Bob Smith is most-noted for, other than the utterly bizarre rendition of Stand By Me, one of four bonus tracks here, begging and pleading in it's spoiled underwear for twinkling Top of the Pops baubles and balloons. And all before the whole goth subterranea got overly swamped n' shrouded with paler than the pale beyond imitations of The Sisters too, still occasionally clogging up Camden and cradles of wilted survivors cocooned elsewhere too. Suitably cold and clammy it may be but forgo the ritual denial of goth's lesser lights and forge a shiver through yer bones. Forthwith.