Glasvegas

There hasn't been an amalgamation of influences before like the ones found on Glasvegas's self-titled debut. The Scottish band, formed in 2000, play the fuzzed-out shoegaze feedback over the irresistible pomp of '60s girl groups. If it sounds unprecedented, that's because it is. Imagine a sneering footballer channeling a drunk Joe Strummer serenading tender lines like, "I'll be the angel on your shoulder…I'm your social worker," or "it makes me cry." A hooligan can get beat on for being this heartfelt.

But before this crosses over into British press hyperbole, the quartet's execution is ultimately simple—on first listen, the respective ten tracks don't sound immediately distinctive—yet with repeated spins, the results are arena-bound inspiring. This quartet has somehow disarmed the bite of messy, reverb-heavy guitar by injecting the songs with the Shangri-Las' accessibility. Front man James Allan isn't challenging the concept of rock music, nor is, as the weekly NME crowned him, a poet or a genius. He is just a very talented young man with the cheeky insight to combine two disparate sounds from two very distinctive decades.

—Arye Dworken
10.16.08