Acolyte

Acolyte certainly won't be 2010's most adventurous album, but it's not trying to be. Instead, it's almost certain to be one of the year's most immediate and assured records, particularly for a debut, boasting any number of potential hit singles.

Delphic have started 2010 as we all hope it will go on - with superb music.

While there are a couple of tracks here that are close to filler, Delphic have proved that they are adept at This Kind Of Thing, which is cause for celebration alone.

On the downside, Acolyte certainly has its derivative moments, although it could be reasonably argued that there are infinitely worse people to sound like than New Order. On the plus side, they've certainly gleaned how to pull off New Order's most celebrated trick: melding dancefloor electronics and rock.

This lean, adrenal debut fors one better, blurring the boundaries between dance and rock with a flair not seen since Hooky and co plugged in their keyboards in the early '80s. [Feb 2010, p.113]

Acolyte not only sets the bar high for Delphic's future outings, but for the genre as a whole. [Summer 2010, p.83]

Delphic is at its best on the pop-leaning cut "Doubt" and the captivating "Halcyon," which features a cold vocal delivery and scattershot synths.

It is during this fifteen-minute stretch that the album transcends its familiar, blokey, mad-for-it Mancunian template and, though you've heard all these tricks before, achieves something charming, familiar, fucking good-and this is the level on which Delphic needs to operate more often if they're going to wring a lasting impression from this sound.

Acolyte may infuriate dance purists with its naive inflections but for more pop orientated people it's a fun, if somewhat formulaic start to the decade.

There's enough originality to warrant a second look, though, evoking the epic soul of the infamous The Haçienda club with percussive clatter overseen by techno producer Ewan Pearson.

No question about it, though, Delphic are at their best when they're in the studio with Pearson. His production wizardry is a joy to behold on Acolyte.

Perhaps they're learning that keeping things pared down to three minutes as opposed to eight might just mean their next effort is a classic. For now, the blueprint is there. It's just a case of tinkering with the numbers.

A likeable fusion though it is, there's none of the innovation of the much groovier The XX, nor are there the soaring peaks and chilly troughs, bonkers FX or even the gauche emotion that propels most dance music.

There are flashes of brilliance here, but you do long for a wink or a flicker of wit. [Feb 2010, p.88]

Though the album gets too repetitive, the uniformity of Acolyte still serves the band's purpose: Make the floor move.