This expanded soundtrack to Graham Eatough’s award-winning stage adaptation of the cult novel This is Memorial Device could be described as the third arm – the mate of a mate, if you will – attached to David Keenan’s celebrated story of a post punk band in early to mid ’80s Airdrie.

Written by Stephen Pastel, doyen of Glasgow’s C86 scene and de facto heid gadgie of The Pastels, and Gavin Thomson, sound designer for the band, the album stirs up a stew of reworked home recordings, spoken lines from the play and new material to create an interesting adjunct to the parent piece.

Anyone who has spent a rainy evening scratching lyrics onto inlay cards or in a sweaty rehearsal room with three pals and a Tascam, will be on nodding terms with what’s presented here. ‘We Have Sex’ is your prototypical drum machine / guitar / intelligible graffiti vocal sketch, the natural starting point for anyone with future band aspirations, perfectly capturing the grubby aesthetic of bedroom music. ‘The Most Beautiful House In Airdrie’ does much of the same but in the form of a North Lanarkshire take on ’60s French sleaze. Mind you, how anyone managed to source a glockenspiel in ’80s Craigneuk is anyone’s guess.

As an exercise in gritty ambience, ‘Square Peg In A Black Hole’ conveys well the art of using the environs as a backing track, piecing together cut up cassette mixes and the hiss of nostalgia indelibly baked into it. Truth is, soundtracks are a peculiar beast – one medium instinctively bleeding into the other – and the desire for these musical sketches to work as a standalone listen is probably too far to stretch.

That aside, there is structure and beauty here. ‘Chinese Moon’ sounds like the feeling of being wrapped in a duvet, cocooned from the come down, with the fuzzing guitar and lilting piano floating under Sanjeev Kohli’s spoken words. In the same vein, and just as successful, is ‘Footsteps In The Snow’ – the feeling of late nights morphing into early mornings, the truest and most honest recollection on the album and the most powerful.

Admittedly, whether all this is enough for these songs to stand / lurch / stagger on their own two feet will be completely subjective, but there is enough experience and stories in this work to faithfully evoke those blurry-eyed remembrances and the inevitable sting of daylight.

We were here. We did this and that’s just alright.