Ten minutes alone in a room with Dream Wife, you’d feel, would be enough to make even Harvey Weinstein agree to submit to a healthy dose of restorative justice. “I am not a body, I am somebody”, they assert defiantly. “I’m going to fuck you up, I’m going to cut you up”, they shout threateningly. If the lyrics on their stunning new album are anything to go by, then Dream Girl aren’t just capturing a certain Zeitgeist. They’re the Geist itself. But this is more than merely a manifesto for a #MeToo moment. Dream Wife may have the spirit of the Au Pairs and the energy of Sleater-Kinney, but there’s a playfulness and no small amount of irony about them too. “I spy with my little eye, Bad bitches”. Par for the course for a group that came together in Art School. But what’s most striking of all are the songs themselves. The riffs. The melodies. This is track after track of perfect power pop. Dream Wife are a powerful statement and they make a powerful sound. More than that, though, they’ve made a fantastic album to listen to. To dance to. To play air guitar to. If that’s not too much of a Harvey Weinstein thing, that is.