Just when you thought Scotland had no more jangly guitars to throw at you, and Glasgow had finally squeezed the last of its creative juices, Ferguson Hi-Fi saunter into view.
Fronted by Pete Ferguson, formerly of electronic experimentalists Wuh Oh, the band find him swapping the immaculate electronic production of his previous incarnation for cheap-sounding guitars, glorious distortion and the simple, unadulterated joy of making a racket.
That’s not to say he’s forgotten how to construct a pop song.
The opening chords of Little Things (There’s Nothing Bigger) sway into view like Belinda Carlisle in her prime pomp.
And that’s not a sentence I ever thought I’d write.
From there, we’re treated to a beautiful cascade of chiming guitars and Ferguson’s gloriously off-kilter, distorted vocals. There’s admittedly less frantic urgency than on Ferguson Hi-Fi’s absolutely peerless debut single, Get Over It, but this time we’re allowed to discover the spaces between the notes.
To breathe the air around us.
And still get gloriously lost in the whole thing.
Little Things is a song about looking towards the stars and dreaming of seeing the world, only to discover that the smallest things surrounding you can bring just as much happiness.
You don’t necessarily need to travel very far to find something extraordinary.
Sometimes you just need to look a little more closely at what’s already there.
It’s difficult to imagine anybody sounding more excited about making pop music right now.
Ferguson has spoken about this latest chapter as one of bitterness and liberation, emerging from the difficult end of his previous musical incarnation and rediscovering the pleasures of making music without the machinery of expectation surrounding it.
But this isn’t nostalgia.
Ferguson isn’t attempting to recreate some imagined golden age of Scottish indie pop. He’s taking everything he’s learned from electronic experimentation, polished production and the peculiar business of the music industry, and throwing it into the glorious mess of DIY guitars and distortion.
The result is something that feels less like a retreat into the past than a rediscovery of why he wanted to make music in the first place.
And why not?
Music should be about joy.
There’s room for melancholy, certainly. Plenty of it. But sometimes all anybody really wants is two and a half minutes of chaotic pop brilliance they can bounce around to.
Dance like nobody’s watching.
Even when everybody is.
Ferguson Hi-Fi are part of Glasgow’s emerging Cabbage scene and are starting to rack up gigs in and around their home town.
