‘Thou shalt not ignore us,’ reads the first commandment of Higgs and the Bosons. We are not here to provide atmosphere. We do not make muzak to be prattled over as you whine about the inadequacies of your dull life.

Our mission is to grab you by the throat and force you to listen until we stride off stage brandishing those precious minutes of your life we openly stole and you can never get back. Not for us a minor-key reflection on the internalised insecurities of your existence cooked up on an acoustic guitar in a student bedsit. Or the mind-numbing banalities of existential unease as the world thunders past your window like a freight train plunging into the night. With hooks you cannot ignore and rhythms that get under your skin like pustulating sores, we snatch your attention and rattle that smug self confidence with unsettling visions of the person you might be, but failed to notice.

Higgs and the Bosons are that thing you ought to see the doctor about but you’ve been ignoring because it might be serious. We dare you to come and see us. We dare you to try avoid us.