It would be all too easy to pick up on the hang-loose guitar style and knowing art-school vocals and decide that The Delgados are little more than a C87 tribute band: a supercool throwback to the days when "indie" was a watchword for a truly alternative culture. Listen closer, however, and there are a host of subtle nuances and ambitious ideas-not to mention a few hummable tunes-that cast the Glasgow foursome as spiritual and creative equals to the likes of Pavement.
There are plenty of post-Malkmus outfits, of course, but The Delgados take the lo-fi form a few vital steps further and create off-kilter pop that's sophisticated and challenging. "Under Canvas Under Wraps" is a brilliant rush of scrapyard enthusiasm that delivers a lip-licking tease, while "Falling And Landing" unfolds beauty with a sinister charm and "Pinky" entwines male and female voices to form a wash of velvet belt richness; all delight with an idiosyncratic sense of cool.
At their best, The Delgados resemble The Velvet Underground brought up on a diet of late Eighties left-field noise-that is, a bit like their esteemed influences, but mostly like nothing you've heard outside of your most passionate romantic daydreams. Cherish them. Because they're better than you could ever imagine.
IAN WATSON
N.M.E.
Break out the Buckfast, kids! After a drearisome decade of blundering, Big Star hand-me-downs and subterranean cock-rock caricatures, Glasgow is currently enjoying something of a rampaging renaissance. If Teen-C squealer-monsters Bis are the unequivocal darlings of the burgeoning scene, then The Delgados are unquestionably its pioneers. Oh sure, they may have only been around for a couple of years, but in this short time they've not only inspired huddles of Hibernian hipsters in hairslides to lunch out on lo-fi, they've also taken on the admiral role of midwives. Sonic sprogs so far delivered by the band's own Chemikal Underground include virgin vinyl from Urusei Yatsura and the ubiquitous Bis.
Taking time out from this selfless life of benefaction, the Delgados have finally found time to serve up a dazzling debut, which positively drips with diversity. 'Domestiques' is a gloriously schizophrenic collection of wild mood-swings, irresistibly melodic thrash-pop, whimsical acoustic melancholia and Sonic Youth guitar quirks. Co-vocalist Emma Pollock and Alun Woodward are the understated Nancy & Lee of post-Velvets powerpop and their light and airy vocal ennui merely serves to accentuate the uncompromising nature of the band's discordant, sealed-with-a-Glasgow-kiss contrariness. Whereas 'Falling And Landing' is a feather-light meringue of melodic restraint and reflection, 'Big Business In Europe' is a pounding avalanche of inspired chaos, which careers off at unexpected tangents at every turn.
The Delgados may be named in honour of the notoriously inconsistent Spanish cyclist Pedro Delgado, but (as Gene Kelly once said), 'Domestiques' is singing Indurain (Note: this is a joke, a Spanish cyclist pun - Ed.) [8/10]
IAN FORTNAM