Hour House return a full 11 years after their debut with another kaleidoscopic LP, pieced together by two beguiling figures of the Aussie scene.

 The Craags is a deeply cinematic dream sequence told in ghostly fashion. Remnants of the past are revealed by guiding spirits through a limbo world, light is cast from shimmering peripheries of the unconscious with passages arriving already in motion. The moon reflects upon a glassy sea; shadows drift across cobwebs; the murmur of the engine is underfoot.

 A spectre stumbles through wretched rooms and cleared landscapes offering elegies to histories found in the dust: exile, isolation, violence, tragedy. What happened here? Where am I going? Where is home? The unsettling nature of these questions weighs heavily through each sequence, dragging the world under, revealing hidden cracks in the ceramics.

 It's an album rich in colour, with audible bonds to Raúl Ruiz's surreal masterpiece Three Crowns of the Sailor, where a seafaring world provides the setting for an unravelling, oneiric sequence drifting through places eerie, hallucinatory and uncertain. Synths pull the narrative along with purpose, through scenes decorated with flutes drenched in longing, pianos echoing through cavernous halls, guitar strings conjuring storms. The Craags is a haunting journey returning to land to the sound of swooning horns, though the reflection in the mirror isn't quite the same as it was before.