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Switzerland. The magical Roger Federer. Picturesque mountain railways. A hopeless obsession with life insurance, of course. And, lest we forget, independent chocolate warriors Hans and Peter Luder. The second single by The Delilahs is to New Wave fakers what Federer is to the humble tennis journeyman, what the Surrein forest is to UK conifer plantations, and what the Luder's Swiss Chocolate Truffle is to Tesco Value Fudge.
Three girls from Zug on the north side of the Rigi mountain, The Delilahs have that similar, blindingly photogenic look to last year's pioneering musical models The Like, albeit with a dyed-in-the-wool vintage indie rock grace so immediate you never once doubt it. This is a band that come directly from the New Wave sorcerer's handbook, a hybrid of classic rock'n'roll substance and inspirational self-confidence.
The Delilahs lead singer Muriel Rhyner tends to embody the music rather than 'perform' over it, layering vocal textures over the evocative power pop of her band in an effortlessly eloquent Swiss inflection rather than a proper show of singing. In terms of shimmering indie, the effect is towering: a supra-sensual concoction of literary precision and musical soul distilled to a swooning kind of perfection.
Leading track Let's Tango and B-side One Nil at Home need little more description, though you feel extra kudos raining down on the latter's sporting exclamation of "8-1 is better than 1-0 at home/and long live the piss-heads that leave me alone", and even the extra track on the CD format - a Beole remix of Tango - seems to have the feted touch of masters, popping and ebbing like Ladytron with an overt and trashy kind of lustre. The Rigi quakes, as King Midas pleads his innocence.
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