Organs perforating cymbals; guitar appendages decorating basslines; a swelling cacophony about to climax and implode: this is the sound of Goat and the seven minute instrumental 'Det Som Aldrig Förändras/Diarabi'. They are a band hailing from 'deepest, darkest Sweden', such is its mystery, and a town called Korpolombo, steeped in the tradition of the practices of voodoo. Maybe this all sounds a little obscure and slightly disconcerting, well it should do, but in a very good way.

Ambitious in scale, laced with sinister echoes and under-pinned by electrifying drum sequences - 'Diarabi' screams into life like The Stone Roses psychedelic extreme or Primal Scream with, in fact, a little more drugs in the bloodstream. 'Goathead' follows with enough bass to turn your bones to dust and make you freak out like a limp hippy.

'Disco Fever' epitomises not only their sound but their diversity. It begins with spindly guitars, organs, groove-laden bass, complex percussive arrangements, and in-between, strange figments of their personality. Each element of Goat tends to have its own agenda, pursuing separate ideas and experimenting along different genres but all adhering to one thing: the rhythm.

On 'Golden Dawn', you could choose to focus upon any of the aspects of the track; the devastatingly glorious lead guitar; the African influenced drums; the deep and gut-wrenching bass or the myriad of intervening epithets that grace the track. Each dynamic is as interesting as the next, yet as diverse in character.

The sound may be a little too pleasing on 'Let It Bleed', the variants being simplified, yet even so the horns are having seizures and the vocal is a raucous expulsion. Goat seem to have an endless well of insatiable rhythms which often decompose into free-for-all jams, a place where they are at their most astounding. You almost desire the lack of order to their music, or at least, their fluid notion of how and what music should be.

In many ways this is classic rock that harps back to the sixties with riffing and complex guitar virtuosity via 90's psychedlia. Goat excel at eccentric, wild and unrestricted passages of smouldering rock and only on 'Run To Your Mama' does it become too simplistic, understated and, as a result, underwhelming.

Generally, however, what you have is a complex combination of instruments, sounds and ideas drawn together with the spirit of abandon. This record would be comfortable in any decade be it 60's, 90's or today. It's a creation with boundless energy that follows instinctual impulses to find its path. Of course, every direction isn’t always perfect but what is exciting about this record is that by the fourth or fifth listen these complexities begin to play out and transcend time. All that I want to do right now is lose myself within the record without a care for anything else, and that's what a record should do.