Arctic Reviews

"There's always been this whole lager-swilling, big, cocky Mancunian band stereotype. We're from 'the other side of Manchester'. I think the other new bands local to us are of a similar ilk and are doing really interesting things in the city." So Delphic - trio James Cook, Dan Theman and Matt Cocksedge - described their reaction to the perils of being from the country's self proclaimed musical cause celebre/bete noire in an interview with the Yorkshire Evening Post.

Based in Leeds, the YEP chose to leave the awkward subject of the two cities rivalry aside, perhaps wisely leaving Acolyte to speak for itself. It was a decision rooted in old Yorkshire nouse. To Leodensians, a seemingly unending stream of next-big-things emanates from across the Pennines, a few worthy of the famous chalky self aggrandisment common to Mancunian exports, but most not. As Cook says however, Delphic are the opposite of those products of Tony Wilson's pugnacious hype train. You certainly couldn't see The Courteeners signing to Gallic fashionista label Kitsune for instance, much less lowering themselves to appear on the likes of Channel M.

So if Acolyte isn't about booze, birds and battling, is it truly a worthy scion of Shaun Ryder? The answer is "Of course". It's a matter of record that along with The Pet Shop Boys , Cook's heroes (One though of "A million influences" as he tiredly told the YEP) New Order popularised the rock-dance hybrid in practical terms. Doubt for instance is a hybrid of both, containing a copyrighted, funk-lite Barney guitar chop, burbling synths and a chorus which echoes Neil Tennant's ability to deliver melancholy whilst surrounded by precious translucence.

As a moment of luxurious, classic pop, it's far from alone. Halcyon, with it's glacial trance motifs and calm insistence, seems made for european dancefloors, whilst the symphonic post-rave of Counterpoint is startlingly ambitious and flawlessly executed. But as well as being able to move the feet ecstatically there are littler joys, ones for Monday nights in staring at the TV, watching the rain slide down dirty glass. Taking in the sense of grandiose desparation that Sumner-Hook-Gilbert-Morris used to specialise in, Submission even sounds in title like something expelled from New Order's Republic sessions. To close, the piano driven Remain is beyond even that level of austerity, pristine and sophisticated with a quiet insistence that belies the trio's tender years and brings to mind the diaphonous Blue Nile.

Not that such die-hard Mancs would probably like it, but comparisons with Hot Chip are also unavoidable. Both outfits are fond of threading together half a dozen post-Kraftwerk dance music genres and interpreting them idiosyncratically. Neither are afraid of the past or cries of plagairism, indeed they revel in the association, flattery the most sincerest form of complementing their antecedents. In many ways they're typical of what the last eighteen months has taught us: copying is the new originality. That Acolyte still chimes with this much energy and discernment is a measure of Delphic's capacity for mastering both the form and function of old and new.