“We’re not very pastoral,” Walton points out. “We’re city people.” This taps into something about the London-based band’s music. Instrumental rock, particularly post-rock, is often accompanied by natural or ecological imagery. Dog Unit’s music, despite its prettiness – its light, sometimes effervescent touch – rarely conjures images of natural landscapes. Dog Unit seem pretty resistant to the idea of attaching direct visual imagery to their music “We’ve had a few people ask us about putting videos behind us while we’re playing live,” Walton explains. “But, for me, the tunes are so auditory, I don’t want to cross the streams.” Scowcroft adds: “Just let people close their eyes and create their own video in their heads.”

Walton cites the influence of Godspeed You! Black Emperor on his younger self, “but when you attach images of abandoned railway tracks and stock exchange crashes, it applies so many semantics to this otherwise abstract music.” Jamieson has a slightly different take on this auditory/visual relationship, describing how, like the aforementioned bouncy ball image, she sees “colour, shape, and texture” within Dog Unit’s music. “Maybe it’s more of an emotional landscape,” Walton suggests.

This is perhaps the key to unlocking Dog Unit. Their music has an emotional centre, a beating heart vigorously pumping away inside the precise, finely-tuned machine. “It’s got to be emotionally resonant,” Walton explains. “A three-note melody was good enough for Beethoven and it was good enough for The Beatles. It’s certainly good enough for us!”