Manchester's Jack Hardman and Mike Benson create haunting, lo-fi melodies as Ghost Outfit. The two friends first met at art college, and together, re-define the protective, almost excusable shield of 'lo-fi' and push it to its limits. I Want You to Destroy Me is their debut, a powerful, frazzling reflection of this desire to perfect and revolutionize our preconceptions of the British music industry. It's an album that is heavy with metanoise (metaphor + noise), and, depending on the firmness of your heart and eardrums, may become the destroyer, rather than the destroyed.

Igniting the album and sending it flying off into the stratosphere is 'Too Soon', a giddying relation of the beginnings of love. Yelping "I think I'm in love" - Ghost Outfit layer textures of scuzzy guitars and clashes into an effervescing sound-bubble that fizzes into 'Switch'. Exploring the idea of power play, lyrical laments of the album title hum submissively in the background whilst guitars, drums, and unified shouts shift forward and back in their own turn across a landscape of lustful angst. It emphasises the idea that for something to dominate, something else must recede; to be in love, to a certain extent, a part of yourself but be allowed to be destroyed, in order for something new to be built (think 'metanoise').

'WASTE', surely capitalised for emphasis, is an abrasive lament of a dying relationship. And like losing anything, you're left semi-paralysed, semi-aware; unable to walk away, and yet unable to deny the inevitable end – you're left "wasting away". In spite of the somewhat macabre topic, the deep, heavy drone of guitar strums makes for a refreshing relief from the darker opening tracks. '-' acts as its title suggests; a pause, a moment of upheaval, a change in direction. Purely instrumental, it's saturated in synths and shaking electro hums that marks a change in the rest of the record.

'Sleep' masks the instruments more than the vocals, creating a lethargic, humid atmosphere of conflict and restlessness, whereas the tentative refrains on 'Words' reflect the lyrical documentation of hesitance and unease in a relationship. Droning machines and clanging cymbals echo down pathways of apprehension, exploding into a chaotic chorus of grating rhythm guitars. Making sense of the previous chaos is 'Lexicon'; with comforting washes of repetitive chord strums, 'Lexicon' ties up the loose ends left by 'Words'. Heaving sighs and pulsing guitars are swathed in a gentle lulling reverb, and, in a sense, create sentences from the fragments of what was left behind as a drum beat silences whirring vocals and leads you into 'I Want Someone Else'. Repeating the familiar feelings of uncertainty reflected upon earlier in the album and building on the sense of completion in 'Lexicon', it finally closes the doors of doubt. Building to a crisp, redeeming guitar solo, the final statement (the track's title itself) acts as a liberating apology.

Returning to a grittier, angst-ridden riff is 'Killuhs'. An irate, troubling self-exploration, it questions the impermanence of everything and everyone that you attach yourself to whilst simultaneously mirroring a sense of frustration and impasse in life. 'What You've Got' and 'Kids' both act as 'final words' to both the relationship that permeates the album and the people who have supported the duo. 'What You've Got' is a half-spoken, anarchic pause-NOW-BREAK-THINGS-now-pause-again number that fights its way to the final chord with a grudge for fuel. As 'Kids' closes the album, you may begin to wonder how on earth the name Ghost Outfit could ever be fitting - some tracks may be haunting, but there's not a track on the record that's lifeless, that doesn't explode through your speakers and self-destruct beneath the sheer force of its own burning life-force.

Everything on the record feels infinite, iridescent, irrational. It acts like a spiritual exertion of angst and rapture, agony and elation, all strangled and compressed into a melodic soundscape of nervous energy. I Want You to Destroy Me makes something intangible and indefinable survive and yet that survival inevitably comes at the price of the love, desire, realization, and self that is documented, explored, and in some cases, attacked. The love is something tragic - think Tess of the D'Urbervilles, Anna Karenina, even Wuthering Heights. Self-realization is almost self-destructive. Melodies melt into an array of frayed nervousness. Vocals are buried deep within layers of electronic hisses, suffusing guitars, keyboards and drums to create a defiant atmosphere. The record may appear bleak, but it's bold enough to bare all to the forces of life, leaving itself susceptible to the vicious ways of the world, ending with a burning sense of redemptive oblivion.