This would have been a stereo mainstay at chez Diver had it not been for me listening to it one morning after a particularly heavy session. Whilst it’s an entirely suitable soundtrack to six pints of bitter and a bag or two of peanuts (days earlier it served such a purpose with considerable aplomb), it’s not such a good hangover cure. Indeed, it turned my guts upside themselves with bass lines so beastly I’m surprised they’re not legally required to wear a muzzle in public. These goblins may not be the accustomed green, but I certainly was after 40-odd minutes in their company.

Think VERY heavy metal and you’ve got the idea – this is whiskey-swilling chugga-chugga sludge metal for long-haired behemoths with their fingers locked firmly in the devil horn position. It’s dirty, sweating, stinking music played by dirty, sweating and stinking men who haven’t taken a bath since 1996, all in the name of rock and roll, of course. Indeed, one song here is titled ‘You’re Not The One (Who can save Rock n’ Roll)’. Right on – that’s Orange Goblin’s job. Or at least, it would be if they weren’t so preoccupied with playing so loudly ears for 40-square-miles are likely to be ringing for a week. ‘Thieving From The House Of God’ is so_ heavy that casual listeners content with the latest Feeder record for their rock kicks will find themselves caught short at both ends – if they don't involuntarily shit their pants then they'll certainly lose the contents of their stomach. Cave In may have written ‘Big Riff’_, but bugger me if Orange Goblin don’t have the monopoly on them right now, even if they’ve at least half a tongue stuffed in their collective cheek. Yes, the whole thing's cheesier than a tramp's foreskin, but it's also funny-as-fuck and rocks harder than Mount St Helens. Grow your hair, worship Satan, listen to Orange Goblin, shit yourself. Amen.