Dublin’s Gilla Band sounds like a live-wire bouquet, the four members coming together to wrench glorious, apocalyptic sounds out of the traditional vocals-guitar-bass-drums setup. While they helped galvanise the rock scene in their homeland almost from their formation in 2011, they piece their chaos together differently on every album. Pugnello sounds towering, with distorted-beyond-repair riffs, collapsing-building electronics and maniacal drumming framing Dara Kiely’s sneery bellow. A closer listen reveals that Kiely’s lyric writing has only gotten sharper and more personal. On “Alogia”, he deadpans about being diagnosed with schizophrenia, while on “Jacobsons” he pokes at grief’s complexities over a rhythm that recalls a malfunctioning washing machine.