Turin Brakes

If nice is the new rude, then Olly Knights and Gale Paridjanian are right in vogue. They're the London duo with their feet firmly on the Turin Brakes pedal, and a more polite pair of indie kids you couldn't hope to meet on a rainy Sunday night in Dublin. The crowd at the Ambassador was small but attentive as Knights and Paridjanian thanked them for coming out on such a miserable evening.

The place might have been half-empty, but it was half-full for the authors of The Optimist LP, as they strapped on their acoustic guitars and glided into a short instrumental piece, then soared into the lofty harmonies of State Of Things.

Paridjanian remained seated, picking out lines on his guitar, while Knights stood up, scrunched up his eyes and dived headlong into the high notes. Behind them, a bass player, drummer and keyboard player completed the sound, spawning a softer, less abrasive but infinitely more interesting descendant of Britrock.

The Optimist LP was deservedly nominated for the Mercury Music Prize: the subtle, emotional charge of Feeling Oblivion, Future Boy and The Road bodes well for the future of UK guitar pop. Turin Brakes have been labelled "nu-folk", but though they're clearly influenced by Nick Drake, John Martyn and Buckley pΦre and fils, they can craft songs that are resilient enough to outlast the current crop of teenage metal dirt bags. Slack may be the closest they get to a full-strength rocker, but few recent rock songs can match the subtle grace of Mind Over Money, Underdog (Save Me) or the new single, Emergency 72 (now simply titled 72). If Turin Brakes keep pouring their heart and soul into it, their glass may soon be overflowing.