So she did. While Berndt dug out her old childhood guitar and began to relearn old tricks, Dodgson stacked cardboard boxes into her university room, clutched pencils for drumsticks and tested her coordination. Eventually, the boxes gave way to a cheap drum kit from Gumtree, and Dodgson thought, “Oh, I think maybe I do have some sense of rhythm. Kind of,” she laughs.

“No, of course you do!” Berndt says, squeezing her shoulder.

After hanging up their hats and gowns, they moved to Bristol, around the time IDLES, just down the road, were being catapulted to main stages. They started gigging around local bars, eventually expanding to a four-piece. When their former bassist couldn’t make their Dot to Dot slot, their largest booking at the time, Berndt asked Zinsmeister: Do you think you could learn bass in a month? Zinsmeister did. Second guitarist Polly Jessett, meanwhile, was playing in another band and caught Grandmas House from upstairs at the same venue. “As soon as our set finished, theirs started, so I ran upstairs to watch. I’d heard their name around before.”

It would be easy to frame this as the charmingly scrappy prehistory of a band who have since graduated to international shows, a catalogue of outclassing EPs, and now their debut album, . But the DIY beginnings charged by close friendship represent the bones of the band rather than just an origin story. Grandmas House learnt their instruments together, their homemade sound forged by collaboration and improvisation. “We’re all self taught. Music theory was not even in our orbit,” Dodgson says. There was no rulebook to rebel against because they had never been given one in the first place. Instead, they learnt by listening to one another.