Snapped Ankles were supposed to be a weird festival curio: a band in ghillie suits pretending to be from the forest, smashing out primitive, ritualistic grooves on strange synths. But Hard Times Furious Dancing changes the stakes. The core elements haven’t changed, but this time, the energy is darker, and heavier. The rave elements are dialled up, and the beats are club ready, not quirky. There’s a genuine sense of menace here. These are hard times, but their response isn’t to retreat. Snapped Ankles used to be funny forest people making silly bangers, but now the humour has curdled into something darker, as the primal forces they represent are growing desperate. The grooves still get you moving, but they’re laced with a kind of dread. And while Snapped Ankles have never been a preachy band, this is a political album. The lyrics speak about rent, rationing, and corporate impunity. It’s there in the band’s very concept: eco-spiritual beings watching the world getting paved over.

Hard Times Furious Dancing becomes more than a party. It’s a kind of revolt. Snapped Ankles are offering a new form of protest dressed in bark. There’s still joy here of course, tracks like Smart World show them at their most confident and buoyant, harking back to their earlier, more playful sound, but with a bit more bite in the bounce. The howl at the centre of lead single Raoul is perfectly designed for a crowd to erupt with. The band knows exactly what they’re doing. Not rock, not post-punk, but proper club dynamics, evidence that no matter how dark the themes get, the party always comes first. Hard Times Furious Dancing is an advert and a summoning for their tour of pretty much everywhere. No excuses - go witness the tree men.