Mute
	(Setanta/LP/CD)
	n/a

The Sundays have disappeared. The Cranberries have grown up and gone angst-ridden. What is a jingle-jangle softy supposed to do? Fear not, oh people with no wish to rock, for the innocent pop thrills you seek lie concealed, in delicately spectacular fashion, within the grooves of Catchers' startling debut album. Cavorting with an autumnal freshness that no multi-million budget could ever fake, it skips along with the exuberance usually associated with small children and Christmas morning. There almost certainly won't be another record like this released all year. Catchers may have long since fled their sleepy Irish hamlet for the bright lights of London, but the big bad city has yet to dent their infectiously carefree look on life. In a rock world infested with the twin plagues of dysfunction and cynicism, a gang of teenagers- armed only with some unaffectedly Smithsian guitars, two astonishing voices (courtesy of co-singers Dale and Alice) and a skipful of youthful charm - somehow encapsulate every idyllic summer and perfect romance you ever had. The end result is deliriously great songs and the single-handed reinvention of 'perfect pop' as a viable concept. Honest.