Make no mistake, The Lumes wholly embrace and relish their predicament as genuine misfits, instead of running away from it. The band its manic creative force Maxime Prins is even more affluent in his arresting howls of anguish. Lennard van der Voort his skulking bass throbs and Mitchell Quitz his discordant drum incursions make The Lumes sound like a band in the midst of devouring itself.
This self-immolation is not motivated by destruction, but by a warped sense of esteem and vanity, owning up to the innermost feelings, no matter how ugly or perverted they get. The Lumes are now fully familiarized and comfortable with their inner darkness: their loose-cannon outbursts are more precise, more deliberate and, ultimately, more resounding than ever before. Welcome my son, welcome to the machine.