Tigers with teeth or kittens with tickly tummies?

A bit of both, really, because beneath the garage-rock lo-fi fuzz, cavernous vocal reverb and Detroit City guitar riffs that comprise the sandpaper surface of Deathcats, you'll often find catchy little pop songs that owe as much to the Scottish indie tradition of Postcard/Avalanche/C86 as anything with a tougher Stateside pedigree. Listen to Jaguar's sparkly jangle before it dives headfirst into the swampy rock of its guitar solo; this is a song see-sawing happily between a floppy fringe and a buzzcut, just as the album as a whole swings between the timeless ambition to deliver throwaway pop tunes (as with Dreamz and Solid) and a deeper desire to create an in-fashion subterranean style (as with Danny Dyer and Comin' Up). This debut album's release date was already set in stone before the Glasgow trio made it through to the final 16 bands playing the T Break Stage at T in the Park: it's a blast of pure energy that should serve them well in the live arena.

ALAN MORRISON

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