There was clearly every reason why 1993s Four-Calendar Caf could/should have been a disappointment at best, a disaster at worst for the Cocteau Twins – first major-label album, follow-up to a masterpiece, band barely on speaking terms, add cocaine, await calamity.

But against these considerable odds, Four-Calendar Caf is a marvel. For all the upheaval attending its creation, it sounds a pretty natural successor to Heaven Or Las Vegas, the Cocteaus apparently continuing to realise that they could stay just as pretty while becoming less opaque.

Its riddled with tunes that nobody would have difficulty whistling, conveying Elizabeth Frasers most audible and least mistakable lyrics to date. On the gorgeous trundle of Bluebeard, which sounds about as close as the Cocteaus were ever likely to get to a coun