Bright Light Bright Light

As reinventions go, this one's practically of Plan B proportions. Rod Thomas, you may recall, could be found strumming away on the underground until a couple of years ago, at which point he embarked on a self-released string of singles that were among the finest flashes of acoustica in the entire noughties. Sadly, though, they were also among the most overlooked, and so, with more than a little prescience given the subsequent emergence of Hurts/Monarchy/et al, he got himself a drummer and a tenuous tower of keyboards and decided that synth-pop duodom was clearly the way forward. Frankly, there was nothing to suggest that this was ever going to work at all, so imagine our joy when it turns out to be one of the most breathtaking live experiences around...
Really, though, that shouldn't be so shocking; after all, he's still an astute observer of relationships, and retains the almost-quaint charm and nigh-on supernatural twinkliness of his earlier incarnation. Recast in the electronic sphere, however, there's a shiny sheen to these songs that dazzles hypnotically and hares through hitherto unexpected reference points with a cavalier cackle – explicitly in the case of his Womack and Womack steal, thematically where his debt to Depeche Mode is concerned, and rife all round with fearsome Frankmusikisms – while the high points are all but gasping for air. 'Love Part II''s exactly the sort of work that'd restore Pet Shop Boys to their richly-recalled imperial glory in instants, while there's a point in the winningly named 'Disco Moment' where Thomas' vocals abruptly shift from sleeve-hearted holler a la a young Peter Gabriel to near-whispered confidence and the entire audience messily melt simultaneously. As ideas go, then, this was a much smarter shift than it'd seemed, so much so, in fact, that Bright Light Bright Light have just outshone every other gig this year. - The Fly