Florence Shaw talk-sings about rage bait, domestic labour, retractable legs, and scabs on her head. Stories revolve around an obstinate love of carcinogenically scorched food, and the escape of a pet tortoise who loves to kick a tinfoil ball. Each verse is a diorama, or a seared-in sense-memory, soundtracked by groove-conscious post-punk that sidewinds alongside her.

Dry Cleaning’s latest album, Secret Love, expands on the new sounds they played with on their stunning sophomore Stumpwork. Disjointed funk and atmospheric synths splice deeper into their art-rock romping while Shaw’s ennui and overload have never felt so vivid.