Delphic is an electronic dance band from Manchester that is currently gleaning overblown praise from the always-congenial BBC. Much like dance-pop contemporaries Passion Pit and Junior Boys, Delphic’s sonics are defined by a sanguine, heart-aching disposition. Their debut record Acolyte doesn’t push the electronic scene forward, but it's a noble diversion with enough chemistry to merit a listen or two.
Acolyte contains a couple of engaging, mix-tape-worthy anthems that burst with enthusiasm. From the icy, neo-disco bombshell of "Submission" to the maudlin sputtering of "Counterpoint," the record is at its best when it shamelessly goads you to dance, penetrating the lyrical pretensions of these otherwise solid songs.
Acolyte's title track is nine minutes long and lands smack in the middle of the record, bridging side one and side two, if not the dichotomy of Delphic. The song goes through several mutations that dilute an otherwise epic finish. Sure, it glistens, it gurgles, it's full of bright colors, wears a low-cut dress, and dances better than anyone on the floor, but in the end, I'd rather leave the club with one of the more enlightened ladies. Maybe the LCD Soundsystem girl, I mean, at least she can carry on a conversation.
Delphic is an electronic dance band from Manchester that is currently gleaning overblown praise from the always-congenial BBC. Much like dance-pop contemporaries Passion Pit and Junior Boys, Delphic’s sonics are defined by a sanguine, heart-aching disposition. Their debut record Acolyte doesn’t push the electronic scene forward, but it's a noble diversion with enough chemistry to merit a listen or two.
Acolyte contains a couple of engaging, mix-tape-worthy anthems that burst with enthusiasm. From the icy, neo-disco bombshell of "Submission" to the maudlin sputtering of "Counterpoint," the record is at its best when it shamelessly goads you to dance, penetrating the lyrical pretensions of these otherwise solid songs.
Acolyte's title track is nine minutes long and lands smack in the middle of the record, bridging side one and side two, if not the dichotomy of Delphic. The song goes through several mutations that dilute an otherwise epic finish. Sure, it glistens, it gurgles, it's full of bright colors, wears a low-cut dress, and dances better than anyone on the floor, but in the end, I'd rather leave the club with one of the more enlightened ladies. Maybe the LCD Soundsystem girl, I mean, at least she can carry on a conversation.