Just how does a band follow a great record? Forget everything excitable music journalists tell you: it’s a dilemma that most artists never have to face. Despite the acres of print, the millions of words and the hours of debate which bands inspire, outstanding albums are markedly rare.

They don’t appear once a week to fill a page in NME or Kerrang, their arrival rarely coincides with a massive advertising campaign and they almost never top the 'best of' lists in your Sunday paper’s supplement. Sure, there’s plenty of reasonably good stuff out there – inoffensive, polished albums, by inoffensive, polished bands - but when was the last time you were floored by an album you bought? When was the last time you went to live inside a record for a month?

Frightened Rabbit should be feeling the pressure. Their second album, the quite jaw-droppingly brilliant Midnight Organ Fight, was not a mere nugget of indie-pop gold – it was a truck load of stolen Scottish bullion, dangerously driven by a wild-eyed poet, and it ram-raided 2008 in spectacular fashion. Its heady brew of Idlewild’s urgency, Neutral Milk Hotel’s depth and flawless melody, and Conor Oberst’s lyrical guile was bewitching. It pulsated with wit and wisdom from start to finish, blending sadness and irreverence with consummate skill. In short, if it’s not in your record collection, it should be, and if it is then you should be smiling smugly by now. But what next for the band who write a great record? Frightened Rabbit think they have the answer: record a live version of your masterpiece, played sequentially in small room somewhere in Scotland, get a mate from The Twilight Sad to appear, add a sprinkling of crowd banter and serve while the critical buzz enveloping your is still piping hot. In many ways it’s a move of extraordinary chutzpah. The band offer none of the additional tracks, DVD bundles, or other bells or whistles associated with live albums, keeping things stripped down, sad and simple. It works. The redemptive noise of Keep Yourself Warm might have been muted, but this only serves to amplify the fragility of Scott Hutchison’s voice, whilst The Modern Leper might have mislaid its distorted guitar crunch, but it’s doubled in speed losing none of its intensity. In the hands of a lesser band a replay of a previous album in a live setting might just feel like a cop-out, but not for Frightened Rabbit: Liver! Lung! FR! is a desperate, scruffy reason to fall in love with them all over again.