Sons And Daughters The Repulsion Box

Following up last year's excellent Love The Cup come the most Scottish band you're likely to hear this year. Apparently British accents are back in this season: witness the Futureheads' dulcet Mackem tones, and the Killers' molestation of Morrissey's whinging. Anyway, that's maybe the first thing to strike you as you put The Repulsion Box on. The second is maybe Red Receiver's uncanny Violent Femmes impression.

So anyway. Sons And Daughters look to be something of a next big thing, and the buzz is building up to crazy levels. Fortunately they appear not to be another 'Gang Of Four, if Gang Of Four sucked' as one has put it. Yeah, there's some disco-y bits in there - latest single Dance Me In is a good example - but it's all good fun, not arch or cold in anyway. If you're just familiar with the rollicking Johnny Cash from last year, then expect more of the scratchy guitars, head-nodding drums and female vocals. Some excellent riffs abound (how rare is it to be able to say that these days?), for example Hunt, and it's true, you will want to bop around a bit. Adele Bethel's (formerly of Arab Strap) vocals are like listening to your best mate's band: you know what's going on, you know it's a bit of fun, and you're actively looking to like - you know what I mean, it's easy to look at a band, read their manifesto and just think 'uurgh'. With this band, it's all too catchy to mind, but with enough guts to give a little longevity.

If you can happily say that the revival of indie music you can dance to is a good thing, but get irritated by the smarter-than-thou Franz Ferdinand or Bloc Party, or you feel you got enough of Joy Division the first time round to need Interpol, then maybe Sons & Daughters would be worth a butchers. Glasgow has a good record with lovable indie-pop, and this has enough infectious energy to satisfy those after a pogo, and enough pop nous to satisfy the duffel-coated hordes of Belle & Sebastian fans. Nothing ground-breaking, but an all-round good proposition.