Once again the Primals try and stretch the boundaries but this time they try to keep it a bit accessible.
With the excellent Miss Lucifer setting the tone Evil Heat incorporates some speed garage rhythms with industrial strength electro searing your eardrums almost from start to finish.
Bobby Gillespie's lyrics are actually decipherable for a change and they still have the typical disturbed frustration that you expect.
There are a few contemplative moments on the album but they are awkward and out of place with the grinding synths and guitars which haunt Evil Heat.
Two and a half Globes out of five. SH
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