Darwin Deez is your mentally unhinged boyfriend. “You wanna play games? Kill your attitude, girl,” he chatters, one eye twitching. “I’m concerned about your health – the way you prostitute yourself,” “Get the fuck out of my face. No, I don’t care to meet your parakeet,” he babbles. These are real-life lyrics from the strange and laughable third full-length effort from Darwin Deez.

Amongst the cacophony of all too straightforward metaphors that last entire songs (Last Cigarette, for example, uses hilariously blatant, tooth achingly sweet lyrics to clumsily compare an ex with a nicotine addiction) he outs himself as an overgrown child, lashing out at anything he doesn’t understand, fascinated yet enraged by women with sexual agency, and yet unable to string a song together without inserting nonsensical rhyming couplets that are unintentionally hilarious when they’re not utterly baffling.

The ringleted Brooklynite has built such a solid armour of cutesie-pie ad-friendliness around himself that it’s no wonder we haven’t seen it before. Just because his mindless trilling pairs nicely with a contrived quirky image and Pabst Blue Ribbon doesn’t mean he can’t be a killer.

Sammy Jones