No band has captured such unknowable glimpses of imagined worlds, all in three minute splinters of Lynchian Surrealism, Old Testament brutalism and glassy-eyed ruminations on extraterrestrial life. No one else has forced a mass of voices to howl along to lyrics about slicing up eyeballs, or the environmentalist dread of millions of pounds of sludge enveloping the oceans. No one has even come close. “There was a guy…”