The continuing adventures of London’s seedy underbelly. The increasingly deadly live shows. The affected cool. Special Needs don’t fuck around. There are no frills on ‘Sylvia’ or, indeed, ‘Tarts’; merely a nod in Bowie’s direction, a bit of rough and tumble, and… You know what? It’s good but it’s not exciting.

What’s more, Special Needs sound like they’re starting to get as good as they already think they are. While ‘Sylvia’ is a likeable if somewhat unremarkable plodalong, ‘Tarts’ is the gay Razorlight (that’s a good thing). Perhaps it’s time to ditch the shades in favour of mascara and eyeliner.

More, please.