A lot of bands get the chance to be called legendary. Fewer ever manage to deserve it. Of those few, there are a tiny minority who manage to do it on their own terms.

Without missing a step, without looking like they're trying, without even looking like they're aware of the rules and without ever ceasing to be brilliant, The Coral have wandered along their own erratic path with big stupid grins on their faces, gigantic spliffs in their hands and just casually coughed up music which has helped define a generation. "Nightfreak And The Sons Of Becker" is their latest elegant sidestep, their two-and-a-halfth album, a twenty-eight minute joyride through a lo-fi John Carpenter B-movie nightmare.

Lyrics, where they stray away from simply repeating the title of the song, are nonsensical but often eerily effective and in keeping with the trash-horror mood of the album, defined most clearly by the deranged psych-thrash of "I Forgot My Name" and "Migrane". Those familiar with The Coral's penchant for wild, unexpected changes in style will find joy and solace in "Aunties Operation", which fluctuates between all-out rock and The Beatles' "Old Brown Shoe", the near-disco of "Venom's Cable" and the creepy album highlight "Grey Harpoon" which nicks the hubcaps off Eminem's "The Real Slim Shady" and scampers off into the night, laughing maniacally.

It's a limited edition album and not really meant to be taken too seriously but that doesn't stop it being an electrifying document of a band totally comfortable with their awesome talent and just enjoying the hell out of themselves. File with Julian Cope's "Skellington" and Super Furry Animals' "Mwng" and then use it to scare your grandmother. -Ian Martin, Feb.03.04

Nightfreak And The Sons Of Becker