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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