In ‘Girls and  Weather’, The Rumble Strips have recorded a truly classic debut album.  With their somewhat eccentric origins in Devon, the four young men from  Tavistock have fashioned a set of songs steeped with huge,  life-affirming choruses all awash with the optimism of youth. This is a  band whose sound and look is entirely their own: thundering drums and  piano, brass to stir the soul and singer Charlie Waller’s voice – a  thing of rare beauty and power suggesting the arrival of a genuine new  star.

Among the band’s most passionate fans is producer du jour,  Mark Ronson. Having heard Rumble Strips’ spine tingling reworking of Amy  Winehouse’s ‘Back to Black’, Ronson fell in love with the band. He  promptly invited Charlie to sing lead vocals at his acclaimed BBC  Electric Proms performance at the London Roundhouse last year, with  Charlie’s performance  widely declared  the highlight of the evening.Further guest appearances have followed as  Ronson and Charlie’s relationship has blossomed, including their first American appearance together when Mark flew Charlie out to Coachella to share the stage with him.

”Girls and Weather” opens with Charlie hollering as if his life  depended on it, “I ain’t got no soul”. What follows is 12 songs  bristling with energy, frantic rhythms, wide-eyed yearning and certainly  no little  soul.

Indeed, the Young Soul Rebel spirit of the singles ‘Alarm Clock’ and  ‘Motorcycle’ is evident on the album, but the record also takes in a  range of less expected (but no less profound) influences: the gorgeous  harmonies are born out of the band’s love of 1950s doo-wop, whilst the  epic nature of Charlie’s song writing recalls the oddball genius of both  Adam Ant and Queen (as imagined by the Stax house  band).

Elsewhere, the brass on ‘Oh Creole’ is like a rousing, doom laden  Van Morrison classic, whilst the E Street holler of ‘Hate Me (You Do)’  owes it’s  anthemic quality to Tom Gorbutt’s inspired saxophone  opening. Clocking in under two minutes, August single ‘Girls and Boy in  Love’ is all hand clap rhythms, Motown piano and gorgeous, bitter sweet  melodies - a festival anthem for  certain.

Recalling the achingly close, three part harmonies of Rubber Soul  era Beatles, ‘Don’t Dumb Down’ is a scathing tale of faking to impress.  Key lyrics:  “You don’t come from London do you? / But, sometimes  you sound like you do / What the hell is that all  about?”

The album closes with arguably it’s strongest moment.  Built  around a huge, Talking Heads-esque piano rhythm, ‘Hands’ is an  extraordinary piece of song writing. Charlie’s almost spoken word  delivery is like an anglicised Springsteen, as he talks of finding  himself, “on the hard shoulder of the motorway / to my feet I tried to  complain / but I don’t think they were listening”, as the song build to  almighty crescendo.

The Rumble Strips are a truly special group:  Pure, sad and romantic. Theirs are songs that strike a chord with the masses, whilst remaining enigmatic and standing alone from the  crowd.