We Were Promised Jetpacks - These Four Walls

Being proud of your roots is once again de rigueur north of the border, and that is surely no bad thing - just think of the British bands that have used their sense of identity to fortify classic albums in the past. True to the stereotype, These Four Walls is, at times, an unflinching surge of Scottish zeal, post-breakup grit and blue-bloodied vehemence. At others, the album tentatively speaks from within its shell, exposing the type of vulnerability that can only stem from wearing a heart so visibly and so openly.

There's nothing particularly tentative about the album's bristling opening track, It's Thunder And Lightning. Appropriately titled, it isn't long before its post-punk, Bloc Party-esque pretensions spike up into a full-blown bellow: "Your body was black and blue! / your body was black and blue!" The track soon simmers down into sarcasm: "I have to say goodnight / I'm leaving before you're punching out my lights." The two themes: anger and a defiant sort of sarcasm become a mini-feature of the the album, with the band's lead singer, Adam Thompson, being adept at delivering both.

While the opening track exhibits Thompson's gruff irascibility, another of the album's early highlights, Roll Up Your Sleeves, displays the softer side of his temperament: "Stay calm, stay calm / keep warm, keep warm" he says, most likely as a form of self-comfort. Beginning as a jolting slice of indie-disco and ending as little more than a lullaby, the track neatly conjoins the album's pulsating start and the more melancholic nature of its midsection.

Both Conductor and This Is My House This Is My Home share more in common with the melodic junkets you'd associate with Snow Patrol than any of Scotland's more fashionable sons. The latter track's creepy revelation "Something's happened in the attic / we both know I'm not going up there," lingers like some curious unexplainable you'd encounter in an Iain Banks novel.

While you're piecing together imponderable puzzles, album standout, Quiet Little Voices explodes These Four Walls out of its semi-maudlin disposition. Having more in common with the thudding, driving urgency of Biffy Clyro, this is the album's most intensified juncture.

Futureheads-style "oh oh oh oh's" combine with the satisfying, hearing-aids-here-we-come noise of multiple, overlaid guitars on max distortion. In a similar vein to Frightened Rabbit's excellent album, The Midnight Organ Fight, We Were Promised Jetpack's concussive rhythms form a robust backbone that helps to keep the album standing, despite its occasional low episodes.

Moving Clocks Run Slow is another immediate dose of pretty-close-to-perfect indie-pop, worked around simple riffs and bopping rhythms. The album's only disappointment, Keeping Warm, is an eight minute long attempt to turn a pop album into something more. However, its forging of several half-ideas into one long track feels like an unnecessary addition.

There's nothing particularly complex or erudite about These Four Walls. Instead, We Were Promised Jetpacks prefer to rely on things a little closer to hand and a little closer to home. While its emotions are often very raw and its lyrical disclosures seem uncomfortably close to the bone, the album always feels more exciting than it does lugubrious. These Four Walls is rousing, pop-like in its immediacy and pretty damn enjoyable. We should welcome such brave Scottish hearts.

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