Ahh Gothenburg. Port city full of sailors, steaming ships, industrial belt and what is probably the most mysterious and edifying scene of experimental misfits in the world right now. Treasury Of Puppies’ second album finds Charlott Malmenholt and Joakim Karlsson further ploughing the fertile territory they sowed with their first LP with Förlag För Fri Musik. Essentially, the duo employ off-the-cuff, DIY tactics of composition to weave spell-binding, textured music that wavers between free, wtf music like Shadow Ring and the tonalities of something like Raymond Scott’s music for babies.

It’s a witchy, mysterious brew and utterly beguiling because of it. Each track is a vignette which unfurls with its own internal logic: some tracks consist of evolving, chiming keyboard melodies with spoken word poetry, whereas Skriv Nar Du Ar Hemma has some woozy, big keyboard chords that rise and fall elegantly, counterpointed by a wandering high-key piano with only a passing relation to the music. Unlike some of their peers – like Astrud Osten Mortensen or Klas Trollius, for example – Treasury Of Puppies don’t drift off into some misty space between field recording and structure, each piece seems rooted in a solid idea that is explored with tenderness and consideration.

Dodens Soffa sounds like a different band all together, with a keyboard beat and garage-y guitar wandering riff sounding like a detoured cover of some 60s stomper and when they sing “we kissed on the couch of death” you can start your Duolingo journey in Swedish in earnest, Dodens Sofa makes sense huh. It’s another reason to consider this group, like all their contemporaries, as being the true inheritors of the Messthetics generation of late 70s, early 80s brits just amking it up as they go along.

Whatever Treasury Of Puppies are making up, you just find yourself hooked and along for the ride.