But not a bad one. Jack's vocals cut a fine line between rap and strangulation as he sings over - shock, horror! - piano. A shambling drum beat from Meg, more typically, centralises the lo-fi production and leaves the song sounding like an experiment by Beck.

For those fans already fleeing to the hills and ripping their Whites posters from walls, the live B side, Screwdriver, has Jack in full rock'n'roll flow with guitar playing as visceral as anything he's recorded as he howls like a hound and Meg goes on a cymbal-fuelled rampage. It all adds up to an eyeopeningly curious episode in the history of an entertainingly curious band.