I=MP is a formula seeking solution. “And so you run through the fields”, moans our mournful narrator in this brooding near-future romance; voice all icy and isolated amidst the swell and throb of the song’s detached delirum and drift, saddled with an unshiftable sadness in its almost inhuman restraint as we’re coaxed into the barren, winter-wracked wilderness of a broken dream. Such austere image-conjuring and lobotomised karaoke-croon would be enough to envelope a weaker heart in impossible misery but not here – the gloom cut through with soapy, pink synth bubbles spawned in the black; far-off, ethereal after-skool squealing ringing in an all-redeeming Pharmacy Shop Boys chorus just in time.

I=MP – Run Through The Fields