Vincent Vincent and the Villains Gospel BombsReview

Reinforce those dancing shoes - the debut long-player from the Villains is finally here, and it's even better than we anticipated. And we anticipated greatness. Yes, there's skiffley rock 'n' roll a-plenty to swing to. But Gospel Bombs is much more than this - delving deep and unearthing devilish darkness (enough already with the alliteration) and a dastardly majesty, no less.

Up first we have Beast, which smashes preconceptions of the band as merely perky '50s revivalists: this is a feral, treacle-dark ode to the head-clutching paranoia which pounds through every bar. Laced with moody Mariachi guitar, this is the perfect soundtrack to a crime passionel…

The darkness is allayed by Blue Boy – a sympathetic big brother of a ditty, complete with doo-wop harmonies. But Blue Boy’s sweetness, On My Own and I’m Alive’s dancey charms and Sweet Girlfriend's barbershop simplicity can stand aside for Sins Of Love (Wah Do) - a compelling number, chronicling legendary sexual adventurers with an eerie arrangement that again lifts the band well above just being a retro box-ticker. Cinema is another treasure, the glum lament of an in-a-rut usher, while Killing Time is a bright tribute to one man's love affair with his record player – we can all relate to that. A Crickets-style shuffle and bygone era values are purveyed perfectly on Pretty Girl - but they aren’t really pretending to live in the '50s. They do give Tesco a namecheck after all.

The Villains are never cheesy – their sound is real and imperfect. And angry too, as Telephone testifies – sexual aggression pours through the distorted, manic vocals. Moral: don’t keep Vincent hanging on the telephone. Actually, better not give him your number …

The Chris Isaak-inspired End Of The Night wraps things up with its evocative poetry and stuttering emotion. You can feel the frost as our hero trudges through the night like a lone wolf.

Sigh... As Vincent says in Sins Of Love, ''no beating heart could resist''.