Formed from the ashes of 90s noise band Ligament, south London’s Part Chimp first rose to subterranean prominence in the early 00s, their neanderthal din characterised by a refined sense of the absurd. Purveyors of bone-simple dirges and fearless explorers of the higher reaches of volume, they provoked as much grinning as helpless headbanging at the All Tomorrow’s Parties festivals where they found a natural home, and revelled in conceptual gestures such as delivering terrace chants over a noise like Black Sabbath wading though creosote.

That taste for sonic extremism remains fearsomely apparent throughout Drool, but Part Chimp have more to offer than a lock-up full of burned-out amplifiers – five albums into their mission, the group have refined their gift for perfectly primitive riffage to a true art. The title track draws equally on the metropolitan gothic of Bad Moon Rising-era Sonic Youth and the dead-eyed drones of Spacemen 3 for its masterly slow build, while Up With Notes is possessed by a wonderfully visceral energy, its helter-skelter riff swerving and diving with dangerous abandon.

But while Part Chimp are often heavy, they’re rarely metal – a guest appearance from Tim Farthing of Reigns, who growls like a corpse-painted ghoul on LSD nightmare It’s True Man, ends up underscoring the effectiveness of Chimp frontman Tim Cedar’s comparatively understated approach. Part Chimp aren’t about machismo or terror, but the simple joy of ridiculously loud noise for its own sake. Drool finds them tightrope-walking the thin line between clever and stupid as brilliantly as ever.