Yes, they're back, and, goodness me, we need them. This absolute powerhouse of a song takes me back to those glorious pop-funk fusion days of Black Grape, with a bass line that dares you to sit still and enough chaos and - yes, it’s true - howling to make you feel that you have actually walked in on a convention of mentalist musical savants. And, boy, is the enthusiasm of these nutters ever infectious.

Singer Gruff Rhys pulls off the feat of making no sense whatsoever, while at the same time managing to suggest that ignoring his ranting imprecations to do something with a lazer [sic] beam may be distinctly unwise. He is rendered virtually unintelligible by the supersonic wall of sound built around him (top marks to Beastie Boys' producer Mario Caldato Jr and the SFAs themselves on this), which propels us along at the speed of light, possibly towards the gold-painted fingers wearing sunglasses on the single cover. No, I'm not kidding. It also sounds like they’ve got a couple of Gorky's Zygotic Myncis fiddling around in there, and having Goldie Lookin' Chain lurking near them recently seems to have brought something very small and pill-shaped to the party as well.

In any case, we should all be pleased. And, in case one block-rocker's not enough for you, there are two other brilliant songs on the single (Sunny Seville and Colonise The Moon) which haven't made the new album Love Kraft. And, yes, I know how lyrics often look weird and arch out of context, but to be singing, to an old folk melody, the line; "I vomited throughout your saxophone solo" takes a special kind of imagination. We need to treasure these guys as much as their A&R at Sony does because one day they will be gone and, my, will they be missed.