While the icicles fall off the windows and the bottom drops out of the wallet, the last thing you need after a cold Christmas is yet another band proclaiming their love of al things Le Bon et Flowers, right? WRONG.

London based four piece Rapid Fiction may have the right influences (CHECK) and the right sound (CHECK) but there you have it...and so do they!

Y'see, in these times of wishy washy eighties pilfered rehashed quagmires of aural junkfood, Rapid Fiction shine through like a beacon in the most smog cascaded blizzard.

And little wonder too when the beautifully discordant charm of 'Discourse' - all 'Speak And Spell' era Depeche Mode synths colliding with a bassline straight out of the Dengler book of D'chord polished off by the most Ferry-esque vocal since well....Bryan Ferry last gave a fuck about anything really.

Likewise the introspective 'Narcostar', which caresses Bowie's third decade-nt metamorphis and throws a new light over the phrase "new romantic".

Quite simply, the whole thing reeks of a sublimity most residents of suburban Britannia haven't witnessed since ooh...Live Aid.