There are three kinds of Marmite records. There’s the kind to garner extreme reactions either way, and then the distinctly mid, whereby it just exists. But this debut from Londoners Island of Love represents a third: there’s a distinctly specific group with which their part-jangle, part-punk indie rock will resonate and do so with utter finality. Think ‘90s slacker rock with a DIY punk aesthetic, or The Cribs at their least immediate via the kind of tempered sonic layering that circa-2010 breakthroughs Japandroids and Cloud Nothings were fond of, particularly on the riffs of ‘Never Understand’ or sluggish opener ‘Big Whale’ and the standout by far, the scrappy blast of energy that is ‘Fed Rock’. ‘Grow’ sounds like Pavement turned up to nine and showcases a cheekily chorus-friendly side (with added “wooh ooh oohs”) and an extended guitar solo that cuts through the haze – albeit a little too late. ‘I’ve Got The Secret’ shows up with a welcome scream to partially alleviate the tension. This record’s textures play to a very specific crowd, and to those not encircled within that Venn diagram, it can all feel as if it’s missing a final oomph.