The second single from Northern Ireland's Leya sheds little light on their mystery. They do not so much imitate influences as display the vacuous absence of anything really their own. They haven't even looked for esoteric mentors - On All My Sundays is a song cobbled together from pieces readily to hand.

Thus the opening bars have something of Missing by Everything But The Girl; the chorus recalls Madonna’s Ray of Light; and Ciarron Gribbin's voice walks a Buckley-Coldplay choirboy axis. The single unfamiliar moment in some fantastically clichéd lyrics arrives when "sunday comes, without the sun". At least that line (a cheat from The Magnetic Fields' Infinitely Late At Night) was borrowed from somebody interesting.

And yet, most mysteriously, there is plainly talent here. The B-sides are, once again, better than the A-side: especially when On My Mind collapses in a burst of feedback. That song suggests, suspiciously, that personality is being expunged elsewhere: that it did, at least, exist in the first place.

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