As Lights of the City sets off, those not paying close attention might have Distant Voices marked down as just another gap-year troubadour, a guy with a guitar and a hat worn at a rakish angle, regaling us with his worldly wisdom regarding love, loss, longing and how he plans to make the world a better place armed with the collected words of Yates and a working knowledge of A minor.
But that would be to miss the punkish exuberance, the engaging lyricism, the simple and deftly crafted melody. And then, as if to underline the point, a minute or so in, the song reveals its true self, stretching its sonic legs and demanding attention. Drums ricochet and rattle, basses pop and pulse and a raw and raucous electric fuzz cocoons the song. Throw in some drifting interludes and the rebuilding of energy levels through tattooing drums and gang vocals and the whole thing races across the finishing line in fine style.
Energetic to the point of being euphoric, brimming with pace and panache, this is one of the most perfect debut singles that I have heard in a long time.