I don’t believe in love at first sight. Lust maybe, but the concept of love is bloody ludicrous. Unless, of course, it just so happens to be a song doing the stark and instantaneous wooing from first play, in which case it’s all wholly plausible. Probable, even. And Dreamer, the début track from the seemingly lovelorn and appositely anonymous Hiding Face, is one such seducer: its vocal slurred and almost too stirring for words, it’s as though the woebegone, rambling mumble of post-breakup sleeptalk. “When I was happy/ All my friends would come visit and actually talk/ When I wasn’t careless/ I could leave my dark hours and go for a walk/ When I was a dreamer” it soothes, as if the end can only be nigh atop quintessential American sadcore emotive as anything Hollywood ever churned out. And, wilfully ramshackle as The Sleepy Jackson, it’s been a long time coming though Hiding Face may just about fill the chasmic void Luke Steele left when he ditched the dolour all those grinning moons ago.