“Celestial Sighs” begins with a dead sea of information and ends by insisting that the light one is looking for might not be another item in the feed.

Its production notes are less delicate: “if people would just get Off the Apps and Into the Streets they could be Fuckin’ Right Now.”

This is not a digital-detox hymn. The song itself is too electronically aware, too pleased with its own studio tricks, too interested in the nervous system. The objection is not to screens as objects. It is to the replacement of experience by representations of experience.

The chorus is deliberately enormous. The piano is supposed to sparkle. The guitars are supposed to function as load-bearing pillars. Devine's instruction was that the “Big Obvious Melody should be instilled and installed into the user.”

One can read the song as a love song, a technology complaint, a joke about appetite or an instruction manual for leaving the house. None of those readings excludes the others.

OFF THE APPS / INTO THE STREETS is therefore less a slogan than a useful diagnostic question: when was the last time the thing you wanted arrived from somewhere other than a screen?