Released in March of this year, the album certainly hasn't become stale, instead continuing to offer a fuzzy and warm recluse from a world of more large-scale strife. Nonetheless, it still steps up the scope of debut 'Nothing Happens', which was a more explorative LP as the band were still exploring their own potential. This venture into a deeper, more crooning project surprised some people – a polarisation the band somewhat foresaw.

With similes like that, the band are obviously going from strength to strength. Their growth over such a short period of time – they only started releasing music in 2017 – has been astonishing, particularly considering they're only now reaching their mid-twenties. 'Nothing Happens' was a vivid exploration of that growth, and Wallows feel like they did a pretty good job navigating an uncertain period of their lives and an uncertain period for the world.

Dylan adds: "Personally, I think as kids we were maybe too self-aware."

The trio are evolving alongside each other, and their bond is immediately apparent. It's a comfortable friendship expanded upon even further during their shows; the live band isn't just full of session musicians, but closer friends accrued through various exploits.

That mental synchronisation, crystal clear as they pick up sentences where others left off, enables a fluid performance, balanced conversations and relaxed social occasions. Even when they're back in LA, the whole crew manage to gel without ever starting to grate on each other's nerves. But, God forbid – what if the band did all get sick of each other? What if the music ceases to flow? What if, as it turns out, the trio are all thoroughly prepared for the eventual collapse of the industry once AI musicians take over with various business ideas in the pipeline…

"I want to start a company that helps people wanting to go into the restaurant business; it's called Entrée-preneurs," Braeden boldly reveals, before blurting, "shit, I gotta trademark that before this gets published." Cole shares similar, if less refined, ambitions: "I would love to have a restaurant. Did you see that show The Bear on Hulu? It's about a chef in Chicago. It's the best show I've ever watched. Being a chef is so sick. Dylan laughs at the pair before serving up his own idea. "I never thought I would want to do anything like that, but I thought recently that I'd actually love to open up a bar," he admits. "I'd work hard to own a really cool, classic spot. It would be called Bar-Tenders, and I'd sell chicken strips."

All this talk of food and drink has the gang desperate for their artist catering, but the three members all have distinct cravings for their post-set snack. "Chicken tenders would be pretty great right now," Braeden enthuses. Alternatively, "you can never go wrong with a wrap," Dylan suggests. "A turkey wrap; it's reliable, it's hand-held, it's easy to eat. Once you get something with forks, it just becomes too much. A small bowl or a smoothie would be good too, though." ("Smoothie and chicken tenders would be a good combo!" - Braeden). Cole exhibits his sweet tooth, letting us know that "after we play, I'm always going straight to dessert. Dessert at festivals is always pretty strong. Cakes, little ice creams… yum."

Reading festival offers more than just food options, if you can believe it. Just 24 hours after Dork let these starved Americans loose, British rock icons Arctic Monkeys will be playing their first UK show in four years, and Wallows are envious that their scheduling doesn't line-up for them to bear witness. The musical giants have had influence across the pond and, although it might be hard to hear it through their sonic stylings, Wallows are very much evidence of that.

He's not wrong – 'Brianstorm' does indeed kick up some dust. Moving forward, the trio are discussing their new direction and aim for their next era to take people by surprise. Maybe we could hear that rock'n'roll spirit manifest after all?

Whether it's channelling Arctic Monkeys or 100 gecs, we'll be here ready to listen. ■