If "Downtown" (New York obviously) smells like sweat coming through a white T-shirt and looks like the flash of a Cobrasnake: it almost certainly sounds like The Hellp. Despite the sarcasm, feigned nihilism, over-mussed hair, there is .... eventually .... real artistry (and maybe emotion) to be found here. Noah Dillon and Chandler Ransom Lucy skip gritty stones over shimmering vocals: LL is dead silent when you least expect it. SOPHIE meets The Strokes, everyone: catch up.