Album: Hal

Hal, ROUGH TRADE

There's a certain kind of album that seems to bring the sunshine spilling into your life when you hear it, no matter how overcast your mood. This debut offering from the Irish trio Hal is one such, a glorious, uplifting collection of songs drenched in West Coast influences, laced with meticulous harmonies and boasting the sort of hooks that seem to have existed for ever. And almost an entire album's worth: by track six, it's difficult to believe you're listening to a debut rather than a greatest hits. That, surely, will be just a matter of time.

There's a certain kind of album that seems to bring the sunshine spilling into your life when you hear it, no matter how overcast your mood. This debut offering from the Irish trio Hal is one such, a glorious, uplifting collection of songs drenched in West Coast influences, laced with meticulous harmonies and boasting the sort of hooks that seem to have existed for ever. And almost an entire album's worth: by track six, it's difficult to believe you're listening to a debut rather than a greatest hits. That, surely, will be just a matter of time.

Part of Hal's familiarity derives from the various influences feeding the band's sound, particularly the falsetto vocal harmonies so skilfully crafted into grand Wilsonian arrangements on track after track - except that the guitarist David Allen seems to have effortless command of the notes Brian has long since ceased trying to reach.

The former Beach Boy is an obvious influence on the instrumental arrangements, too: "My Eyes Are Sore" is an extraordinary Wilsonian masterpiece, slipping smoothly between styles in a sublime "pocket symphony" incorporating strings, lap steel and what sounds like harpsichord, liberally coated with interlocking layers of harmonies. Many have tried to replicate Wilson's style, but most are unable to invest their dry pastiches with the necessary sense of joy, the harmonies and the catchy hooks, three elements in abundance here. The castanets on the DJ-friendly "Play the Hits" are a Wilsonian touch, and there are nods to both Pet Sounds and Nilsson in the single "Worry about the Wind", Hal's tribute to The Band's late bassist Rick Danko.

Elsewhere, the gentle "Keep Love as Your Golden Rule" could be an Aztec Camera outtake, so closely do voice and backing follow the Roddy Frame formula. The piano ballad "I Sat Down" is saved from KeanePlay hell by the relaxed banjo on the chorus and nods to Tim Buckley. Best of all, perhaps, is "Don't Come Running", a joyous pop anthem that blends the country-funk spring of The Band and Little Feat with a lead vocal that sounds like someone's "channelling" Jerry Garcia - but which, unlikely as it may seem, also sounds like a huge summer hit. "Do your very best to try," sings Allen, "You got problems, go ahead and deal with them/ But don't come running crying/ You need sunshine coming through the window." It's a measure of the song's infectious positivism that, even with curtains drawn, it floods the room with light.

This is shaping up as a vintage year for pop, with great albums from the likes of Kaiser Chiefs, Rilo Kiley, Bright Eyes, Beck and British Sea Power. Hal may be the best of the lot, its graceful elegance, impeccable craft and sheer ambition making it a contender for album of the year.