No More Like This is a record built on immaculate synth design and drum machines pulled straight from techno, but with a sleek, cool, sexy and threatening post-punk mood, with sound design that stands head and shoulders above most contemporary electronic releases.

The synths are subtle, precise and sculpted with restraint and detail with considered textures that feel gothic and industrial, moody and spacious rather than abrasive. At the centre Ella Harris’ vocal performance defines the sultry atmosphere with a detached and effortless cool that recalls the icy intimacy of The xx but with more intensity and shadow. This is music that feels personal in your headphones but enormous in a dark room full of bodies, intimate songwriting that can easily translate to a crowd moving in sync.

The seven-minute Okay is a particular highlight, built around an instantly iconic refrain that takes its time patiently constructing a world from carefully introduced sonic fragments, building methodically and incrementally like Orbital before unexpectedly dissolving into a jazzy, piano-led passage that feels softer than anticipated in a masterful pivot, much less interested in brute force than atmosphere. The album feels like a test of what synthesizers can do, having existing for decades but here feeling freshly cold.

There’s tremendous poise in No More Like This, feeling confrontational rather than romantic, undeniably sexy but dark with tension, restraint, and powerful stillness. The opener Rain is built on a slowly detuning pad that blooms like a sunrise, dubby in its patience and reminiscent of the slower, exploratory moments from Underworld that’s gentle, immersive and expansive. Enough pivots sharply into gothic territory with a post-punk bassline and a tense industrial undertow that’s wrapped in elegance.

Mate strips things back further with whispered vocals hovering over sparse textures in a restrained and sensual way that recalls Portishead, whilst Send is a full techno banger of muscular rhythmic noise. Anger Song slows everything down in an industrial ballad that echoes the theatrical gloom of Placebo while Peel brings a flash of camp and celebratory electro brightness. Boyface is stunning in its slow-motion beauty, and Flood strips things back to near-nothingness with sparse vocals and gentle synths.

No More Like This feels very of-the-moment in its production quality, but timeless in attitude with a grey, nocturnal palette. PVA have succesfully straddled two spaces, feeling intimate and gripping on headphones with close and controlled vocals, but with drum machines and synths pulses that feel perfectly engineered for warehouse ceilings and strobe lights.