CityLife

Delphic

Delphic

Delphic
Islington Mill, Salford
January 29, 2010

OF the six bands in the BBC’s Influential Sound of 2010 list (discounting the nine solo artists), three were Mancunian : Delphic (first fingered for success by CityLife’s own David Sue last April), Hurts, and Everything Everything.

After an arid few years where it has seemed as if our musical motto has been “Who Put the ‘Meh’ in Manchester?”; the national gaze has turned to a renascent music scene that’s exciting, gleamingly vibrant and innovative. 

Although critics’ choice lists can be notoriously unreliable (look at formerly-feted Joe Lean & The Jing Jang Jong who were expected to sell tonnes of records – which is only true in that they now all probably work in HMV), this homecoming for tastemakers’ favourites Delphic (formed from the ashes of Snowfight in the City Centre) demonstrated the trio more than live up to the acres of hype.

Having gatecrashed the Top Ten with stridently confident debut album, Acolyte, there’s an indisputably kinetic atmosphere engulfing the evening: uniting a mixed audience of hipsters and 40-something Haç-beens in delirium. There are even middle-aged women groupies: less Fearne Cotton, more Maureen in polyester.

Unstoppable

The sobriquet ‘Newer Order’ isn’t merely lazy journalism: from the Peter Saville-recalling LP artwork to their penchant for Greek-derived one-word song titles, through to the gorgeous existential love crisis of Doubt, which pairs bittersweet synths with a Technique-era bassline. However, it isn’t mere pastiche, as Delphic take their obvious influences – including Orbital – and percolate them into distinctive, intricate, perfect pop songs for the heart and hips. 

As sterling as their LP is, nothing is left to chance live: a wall of neon strips flash behind them, bathing each member in a coloured glow; while strobes flicker. Kicking off with Clarion Call, Delphic already sound primed for stadium gigantism. .

Although they’ve been described (by their own record company, Polydor) as hawking a blend of ‘anthemic indie and stadium techno’, crucially Delphic sound like dance nerds that have incorporated elements of indie (rather than bedsit dilettantes who have bought a Korg and bolted on some bleeps and blips), thus transforming the night into one sweltering club. Indeed, like a mixtape, each track seeps into the next, uninterrupted by any acknowledgement  from frontman James Cook (who has all the onstage banter of a Trappist monk). 

Aided by the band’s secret WMD, the multitasking Matt Cocksedge (snigger), the music speaks for itself: from the soaring,  celestial Cut Copy house of This Momentary; through to the surging Halcyon – which you expect is the kind of record the Klaxons’ management wishes they would write.

In Counterpoint, they have a song that has the power to compel strangers to hug each other. As the first charge of the Manchester 010’s Pop Cavalry, you’re left with the feeling that come festival season, Delphic will be unstoppable.