Album review: Meursault - Pissing on Bonfires, Kissing with Tongues

A LOOSE collective of musicians headed by Edinburgh's Neil Pennycook, Meursault are the most exciting indie band to emerge from the capital since Found.

Fusing jagged electronica with ukuleles, accordions and folky guitars, they variously recall a lo-fi, rough-edged Arcade Fire and Thom Yorke's solo album The Eraser. Those comparisons are just jumping-off points, though (and are famous names deliberately chosen to get you interested).

Whoever they superficially sound like, Meursault have their own, distinct sound, thanks to Pennycook's beautiful, melancholy songs and his instantly recognisable voice, which can switch between a sweet, Neil Young-like falsetto on the acoustic A Small Stretch of Land to a bleak howl on the stomping, memorable The Furnace.

This debut album has been out for a while on the band's own Bear Scotland imprint, and is now being reissued on the marginally bigger Song By Toad. The album's low profile is likely to banish it from a much-deserved place on the media's various Best Of 2008 lists, but it'd be a crime if this fine band got overlooked.