Part Taoist riddle, part lone gunman manifesto, Sex Mask are a three-piece from Melbourne making vague, strange and instinctive post-punk and alt-rock. Their music taps into something that feels oddly familiar, as if you’ve heard it before in a dream, a forgotten memory or a life yet to be lived. Is it all just an elaborate attempt by three delusional solipsists to be heard while saying very little? Yes. But they make it look good.