The Delays? Yea, pretty much.

So in the new grand tradition of posting only positive reviews on this blog, here's my little synopsis of the Delays' album, "Faded Seaside Glamour."

What we have here is a kind of Cocteau Twins thing goin' on, minus Elizabeth Frasier and the hat full of random words, but no less effective. They have this kind of lovely mix of jangly, Britpop lovliness and flowy, airy, funky happiness that makes my head hurt. Mostly because I can't imagine the kind of genius that comes out of that. Also because I'm tired and have had too much coffee. Really, I think it's mostly the coffee.

The Delays are from Southampton. When you listen to the vocals by Aaron and Greg Gilbert, brothers who look like twins (are they twins? I don't know. If not, they should be), you will be forgiven for thinking that there's a girl in the mix, what with the soaring, high-register crooning. But no, they're dudes... just dudes with really lovely, delicate, choirboy voices. But hey, listen to that! They've got this cool kind of raspy thing going on too! To quote TV's Paris Hilton, that's hot.

There's something very nostaligic about the Delays. They call to mind some late-60's Britpop "Ferry 'Cross the Mersy" thing that is really incredibly unhip. But they pull it off so well, and throw in a little bit of that Cocteau Twins thing, that the Delays force you to think they're hip. Which they're not. Well, their haircuts are.

I think it still might be the coffee, but I don't know if I'm getting across my love and affection and admiration for the Delays. This is the best album I've heard this year. And yes, I know it's only Jan. 28th, but this is pretty damned amazing. They're just so pretty. I guess that's the word I'd use to sum up the album: pretty. So, so pretty. And you know how blown away I was by the Arcade Fire? You read that whole little freak-out fest? Well, I hate to say it... but this is better. Yikes!