Saint Jude's Infirmary

SAINT Jude's Infirmary are not shy about wearing their influences on their sleeves. The moment they start up with their hushed, crushed gloom-pop mantras, the spirits of Mazzy Star and The Velvet Underground come jigging around the room like depressed river-dancers. Yet Saint Jude's still manage to marvel and seduce as, fortunately, they manage to wring stunning new textures out of what should be a knackered old palette.

Dressed for the most part in de rigeur black, this Edinburgh quartet are as static and sombre as the humming monolith from 2001, their charred and brittle lullabies often in danger of being swamped by the chatter from the crowd. However, although they sounded muffled and indistinct at times, their beautiful, perfectly formed songs still managed to break through.

Opener Montreal was a misleadingly upbeat burst of sunshine Belle and Sebastian-shaped pop, warm and contagious. Singer Emma Jane possesses a wonderfully pure and beguiling voice, a sad sweet pleading thing which could squeeze tears from a breezeblock. The songwriting is remarkably assured, each song sounding timeless and classic.

Songs like the organ-stroked Saint Jean are so achingly beautiful, strong and complete, it's amazing no-one has thought of them before, although you could argue that Lou Reed thought of all of them years ago. Yes, Saint Jude's are derivative, but since they do such immaculate things with their influences, we'll let them off.