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Glasgow's Conquering Animal Sound have been steadily fencing off a modest plot for themselves in the midst of the current crop of offbeat electronic pop artists, starting with 2011's well-received Kammerspiel and following this with the more sonically devious On Floating Bodies, released last year. Their new EP sees them maintain many of the familiar production elements of previous work while cross-breeding in a stronger strain of jolly nonsense.

Conquering Animal Sound revel in randomness, which can make listening to a sustained barrage of their work akin to having a gushing hosepipe trained over your head. While their songwriting is pretty straightforward in terms of structure, they have a tendency to produce chaotic sound collages, building up simple beats and basslines with frantic synth sweeps and arpeggiated riffs that float across their allotted time signatures to confusing effect.

While for some electronic artists this would result simply in a messy, unfocused sound, James Scott and Anneke Kampman have a neat grasp of where an incision needs to be made into a drum pattern, or where a collection of synth melodies are on the edge of becoming jarring. Nothing outstays its welcome on new EP Talking Shapes, which is anyway a short, sharp reminder of what they can do.

Rather than stretching out unnecessarily, tracks gather detritus quickly as they rattle along. 'HTR1A' is evidence of the randomised magpie-ism that CAS practice. Take away a purposefully absent-minded drum pattern and the track is really just a collection of electrified cries of anguish, with treated vocals squeaking and splashing amongst rutting, percussive melodies and rhythmic mess. A thick synth line carpets the vocal line as it enters; their lyrics are winningly spiky - "It did not look like my mother / but it did not look like me either" has a Sarah Polley-esque quality to it, domestic, lonely and droll.

Kampman's vocals are well worthy of note. The singer is clearly in thrall to the tiny-iconoclastic-Icelandic-one-who-shall-not-be-named (as well as inviting comparison to tUnE-yArDs), stretching vowel sounds to unbearable lengths to suggest tension, and concatenating odd syllables that lay stress less on the actual meaning of couplets and more on their underpinning weirdness. Lyrics are performed, rather than recited. You can imagine her parading up and down a stage, choking up the words.

'Puskas' is stolid and daft in equal measures. A silly recorder riff is introduced early, while the track is still relatively peaceful, and swiftly becomes submerged, acting as adversative to Anneke Kampman's sharpened vocal yelping. The crescendo's of stress and relaxation within songs rise in funny little ellipses, making it hard to know where a song will meander from one section to the next.

Talking Shapes may only be a brief collection, but it will have been an important signpost in CAS's development if the warped logic that lies at its core is carried forward into their next long player. As it is, the EP represents a familiar, challenging and winningly silly detour on the road to that offering.

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