Putting the extended well and truly back in extended-play are enigmatic Swedish outfit Niki & The Dove, whose latest EP The Drummer incorporates a whopping seven tracks and clocks in at a touch over twenty-two minutes. Opener 'Sundog' contributes 59 seconds to the total running time, and serves as a brooding intro to the segueing title track. It's led by a pummelling synth line that sounds like 'Running Up That Hill' crunched, crumpled, and mangled by the jaws of Siriusmo's laptop and suitably, it provides the standout moment of this particular effort. While it may revolve lyrically around a twilight scuffle, musically it's far and away the most likely number here to induce involuntary gyration of the forearms in movement akin to the infamous cabbage patch dance.

As with all that the duo comprised of vocalist Malin Dahlström and keyboard magician Gustaf Karlöf have committed to vinyl - or at least MP3 - thus far, the EP is laced with an unsettling sense of menace that lingers beneath the polished electropop exterior, even the already much-extolled 'Mother Protect' initially thundering away metronomically, portentously, before the dawning of a chorus (buoyant panpipe fare) that parts previous ominousness. Were one striving to pigeonhole the duo and their fanciful dule of doves, they recall compatriot Karin Dreijer Andersson, had she been reared on a diet of Depeche Mode and Björk's Homogenic, although outlandishly idiosyncratic denouement 'The Birth of the Sun' attests to just how redundant such categorisation is. Assuming a spiritual air, it serves as the sonic incarnation of the most glistening Summer Solstice imaginable were it seen through the eyes of Nintendo illustrator Yusuke Nakano, Karlöf's synths gaining a celestial twang with Dahlström's vox contorted hauntingly.

'Manon' is perhaps the least operatic song on offer, thus distancing itself from Jules Massenet's esteemed oeuvre of the same name, instead gushing tide-like although without ever truly beguiling, calling Lykke Li's beloved 'Jerome' to mind all the while. Elsewhere if Indeep were once miraculously saved by a DJ on an evening in '82, before proceeding to spend the following days, months, and years dining out on its notoriety, Dahlström purports to have spent 'Last Night' getting "married in a taxi" atop quintessentially sultry, Scandinavian groove that's more aligned with Sheena Easton balladry than the aforementioned New York New Wavers. On this evidence, Niki & The Dove aren't merely continuing to glide quite gracefully, but seem to be soaring over progressively more experimental territory.