But it's fitting that such a genuinely innovative project has found commercial acclaim in a country so teeming with astounding underground pop. The Knife have that bleak naturalistic evocativeness of film-making compatriot Ingmar Bergman, and in the same way he illumines his sometimes uncomfortable films with beautiful stark imagery, they coat their peculiar existentialism in fantastically downbeat musical flourishes.

Marble House is one of the most contrary duets put down in recent memory, incognito warriors Karin and Olof serenading each other to a bleak landscape of brooding electronics, haunting whistling and convoluted melody, and though every art form conjures its own unique language, it leaves you reeling in that substantial sort of way pioneered by cinematic masters.

While the D.I.Y underground dances to the defiant odes of Lucas Moodyson, The Knife sit firmly at the side of the original master with formidable intent.

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