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January is a strange time. Cold, fed up and skint and stuck listening to those Christmas CD's you didn’t really want. They're the albums you've ignored buying for months only to ask for them at the end of the year. Bat For Lashes please. Really like them. Two listens and January seems even more miserable.
Well Christmas is over mon amis, Delphic have srrived with the first big album of 2010.
Falling into that bracket between indie and dance Delphic typify what Ian Dury sums up in the film Sex, Drugs and Rock ‘n’ roll. ‘Good bands plagiarise, great bands steal.’ he says and Delphic may have stolen things here and there but the resultant Acolyte LP is the album the Klaxons never made. Bristling with simple keyboard riffs and euphoric unrelenting vocals – it produces smiles wider than Jan Molby’s front door.
New Order comparisons are obvious given the Manchester link, but early Bloc Party or The Longcut is much closer to the mark. ‘Red Lights’ follows the brilliant singles ‘Doubt’ and ‘This Momentary,’ delivering an early Chemical Brother’s-like euphoric state of bleeps and switch tripping. Title track ‘Acolyte’ builds upon this for almost nine minutes of sheer ecstasy. Rising up and down in 30 seconds bursts before a crescendo of beats smashes through the beauty and straight onto the dancefloor. Subdued vocals are almost hymn-like with Ewan Pearson’s stamp all over it. Having worked with Ladytron and The Rapture and having a remix list going back 10 years, he was the perfect choice to produce this record.
Debut single ‘Counterpoint’ invokes memories of Orbtial’s ‘Belfast’ but with vocals again reminiscent of Bloc Party’s early offerings. ‘Doubt’ could eve have come straight from Kele Okereke's and cos 'A Weekend In The City', as breathless vocals battle harmonies and beats. The chorus is big, ‘In it all for me, I've hit the wall that's left for you is doubt / Better you than me, I've so far to fall, but I can't change now.’
From the opening bars of ‘Clarion Call’ to the last minute of ‘Remain’, ‘Acolyte’ will have you hooked. Flapping about in the air on the end of the Delphic fishing rod, all you can do is dance and feel the breeze against your tail.
Whilst it is far too early to be talking about record of the year, Delphic’s chances of being in the running come December are as assured as David Cameron’s self-congratulatory wank when he wins the General Election in May. Go on treat yourself; you're not drinking anyway. Well not much.
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