Are you ready to feel the shiver.
You know the one.
You're walking down the street and there's a distinct feeling that you are being watched.
Not in a nice way either.
Danger is sending currents through the air and you can feel your stomach rolling in anticipation of something happening.
It's some reptilian thing in the core of your brain ramping the warning levels up to def con one.
That's the feeling that accompanies the new release from The Coffins.
It's darkly dangerous and delightfully fucked up.
While some would shy away from embracing the feeing there will be equally those who will rush forth wrap their arms around it.
The thrill seekers, those who want to feel their stomach flip as the jump from the cliff face, that push to the front of the line to try out the latest gravity challenging ride at a theme park, whose idea of a quiet night in is a box set of gore drenched DVDS.
This is the sort of release that will appeal to them because when you put yourself on the line it is also when you feel the most alive.
With tales of blood in the gutter, Glasgow serial killers and even a party anthem for when the scariest bitch that this country has ever seen dies called Maggie's Dead thrown in for good measure we have an album that will tick all the little boxes that their fans have set up, and even provide those who haven't heard them before something to chew on.
Or worry on like a bone if that's your thing.
Bob's Shed is akin to Alex Harvey freaking out on an acid trip after a marathon night of watching Hammer horror movies with some episodes of Taggart thrown in for light relief.
With some of the mainstream music press sniffing about the band it looks like this could the the year of The Coffins.