The opening track of VÅR's debut album is a rallying cry and announcement of arrival. A single horn breaks the initial silence, whilst a steady, militaristic drum beat and screeching strings underscore atmospheric vocals. They demand your attention and to further their point they begin the next track 'The World Fell' with a four to the floor kick drum - it almost feels like a call to action. The brooding might of 'Begin To Remember' is replaced by an up-tempo track comprises deep bass swells, droning guitars and techno synthesisers. In the space of two tracks VÅR set out the template for the rest of the record - Lo-Fi punk with flourishes of dance music.

VÅR is the product of two members of the diverse Danish DIY and Hardcore scene. Originally recording under the moniker War (the new name translates as 'Spring'), Elias Bender Rønnenfeltand of Iceage, and Sexdrome frontman and Post Isolation founder Loke Rahbek have referred to their band as a multi-media project and have a collaborative spirit that reflects a wider culture on the Danish scene. The size of the band changes depending on who you talk to. Sometimes VÅR is a two-piece, at others a quartet - Kristian Emdal (who previously recorded with the duo under the name Lust For Youth) and visual artist Lukas Højland expanding the line-up. There is also the haunting spoken word performance from Sacred Bones label-mate Margaret Chardiet of Pharmakon on the album's title track. The track itself is one of the album's standout moments. The surrealist vocals perfectly capture the ambiguous and dark atmosphere that runs throughout the record.

No One Dances Quite Like My Brother is a melancholic and, at times, menacing record, with songs that envelop the listener and can feel claustrophobic. Instruments and electronics collide, crash and clatter so that you can never be sure where certain sounds are coming from. Yet within it are sounds and styles reminiscent of familiar genres - no wave, 80's post-punk and acid house. The vocals, ambiguous and muddied with reverb, haunt each of the songs. They present a dystopian vision, as in 'The World Fell', or something altogether more terrifying in the tense, whispered exchanges of 'Hair Like Feathers'. With its rattling percussion and piano it recalls These New Puritans.

Yet there is also something quite melodramatic about No One Dances Quite Like My Brother. Rahbek's vocal delivery is not too dissimilar to Ian Curtis, whilst Rønnenfeltand sounds like Robert Smith channeling Joe Strummer. Fortunately, whether intentional or not, this doesn't dampen the album's impact. The divergent styles result in a first listen that is full of surprises, whilst subsequent journeys into the dark world of VÅR reveal more complexities and sounds to intrigue the ear. The combination of Lo-Fi, DIY punk and bass heavy electronica doesn't sound like a combination that should work and yet, somehow, VÅR manage to create an album that surpasses this expectation.