Slate became my favourite new band after I caught them by chance in the support slot at an East London pub three years ago.

Their single Tabernacl (sic) was a magnificent debut, positioning them as a kind of Welsh equivalent of Fontaines D.C., having formed over a similar love for poetry.

Since then I’ve seen them two or three more times and watched them evolve at their own pace with a handful more tracks along the way.

Now comes the first single from what will hopefully be a new album early next year.

The Grandfather Clock bears all the hallmarks of their sound, building from a moody bassline by Lauren Edwards and skittering drums from Raychi Bryant behind the intimate vocals of Jack Shepard.

A singer with the soul of a poet, he sketches evocative childhood memories of returning to a musty mansion where we find pink marble elephants, a rocking horse, and the titular grandfather clock.

“In evanescence, cure and curse,” he sings, as the song picks up pace like a gathering storm before exploding into a blizzard of noise. “My colours at their best, worst.”