"House of Shame" is immediately catchy, bringing to mind Catastrophe Ballet's similarly titled "House of Pain". Both songs have bolshie-male vocals, backed with beats, guitars and synthesisers. There's emotion to engage the heart and rhythm to engage the feet. Singer Jan informs us that: 'Lies are stairs, pain fills the rooms, hate lies in floors.' I'm glad I'm not his neighbour.

The guitars are crunchy for "Dbn" and the synthesiser stabs strident. I'm getting the feeling that Jan and the boys are disgusted by modern society. Jan proclaims: 'What I need is a breakout is a timeout of this dead-brain-nation.' He is not the first person to feel this way, but having something to communicate helps give the songs focus and urgency. "Meaning (Of Life We Stay)" has some fine 80s-sounding guitar that mixes with the keyboards to produce a bouncy, yet melancholy, tune. It's a call to arms, urging people to open their minds and live their dreams.

I am afraid I am unable to enlighten you as to the meaning of the word "Edacious" as it forms the name of the album and title track. This eponymous song is more synth-orientated, as is "Re:Birth" which follows. Using the guitars on the chorus does create a rush of excitement, but I find the electronics cold when the six-stringed support is absent.

While the language switches to German for "Starksroom" and "Das Licht" the emotion is communicated so clearly that you don't need to understand the words to comprehend the meaning. The latter song builds waves upon waves of keyboards, though a little more guitar would improve the flavour of the sound. "Question of Faith" reminds me of a more industrial Depeche Mode. The chorus is catchy, neatly balancing the more serious verse.

I've been listening to this CD on repeat while working on other things. It's upbeat enough to give me the energy to keep going through mundane tasks, though not so demanding as to distract from the job in hand. While much alternative music focuses on internal angst, in the case of heavy-current the anger is aimed outwards. This provides a lyrical thread to the songs and no doubt fuels the passion of the band. Eventually though, all this fury gets tiring. Maybe if Jaz Coleman had been into synthpop rather than punk, this is what Killing Joke would sound like.