If this review had been published as its first draft, it would have began with a line about the overwhelming similarity of the tracks on What's the Price?; it would have said something like "what let's down this otherwise brilliant album..."

That would have been an unfair criticism. What's the Price? not only deserves, but commands, attention. It isn't an instantly likeable album - although it isn't unlikeable by any means - and it might take a number of listens in order to 'bed in' with it; but as with many albums that benefit from repeated listening, its qualities amplify over time, and repays the investment. All a hasty review might have done is compound the view that 'similarity' and 'originality' are tied to tonality - of which there is similarity on this LP - when, of course, music has all kinds of variables, most of them often wildly fluctuating.

What's the Price? certainly fluctuates: its timbres and tones, rising and falling out of the warm, often pulsing and driving tonality of these songs, offers all kinds of pay offs and, for want of a better word, tunes. This effect is maybe most marked by three tracks, titled (as with band) 'Numbers Not Names', 'Night Train' and (so with album) 'What's the Price?'.

With 'Numbers Not Names' the album introduces the industrial, bass-driven rhythms and murky tone that runs through the album, but also the sense of submergence in an industrial, maybe even alienated, life that is often put across in the album's brilliantly delivered lyrics: "My heart pumps oil to industrial facilities It's not the heat it's the humility."

Word and sound work beautifully together, right across What's the Price?, with a song like 'Night Train' rattling on its own, track-like rhythm and delivering its lines - "Night Train moving, fire and smoke; fuel for the flame no aim when it roll" – with a sharp, tense cadence.

"Night Train moving, breath in the ashes; you can hear the ghost cry mercy when it passes." Tonally and lyrically, the album drowns itself in its own conception of the blood and oil, the factory-like thump of industry that comes across with phrases like "the ration's ain't bad but conditions are killing me," from 'Numbers Not Names?' - and cuts over it with changes in tone, as in 'What's the Price?', which adds high-end, and cutting, trebly beats, almost as a melody.

That mixing together thick layers, and cutting them open, if almost daintily, characterises the album. There's something monolithic about What's the Price?. It beats and bruises, it conjures images of a hyper-industrial, oil and tar-filled dystopia; but it has its beauty, too. Listen absently and What's the Price? might take on the thickness of the tar and smoke that permeate it - but shine a light on it and, just like a slick oil spill, it'll yield several colours.