Credit: Found On Internet

If ‘Toys and Kings’ were a flatshare, the carpet would suck at the soles of your shoes, and the residents would eat nothing but takeaway as all the dishes piled up in the sink are so dirty that new lifeforms are evolving in the mould growing on them. Three-parts North Wales, to one-part North London, the unmistakable post-Libertines residue lingers in the corners of The Heights debut record.

The Heights have played with everyone from The Kooks to The Cribs, and a lot of otehr bands starting with a 'The' inbetween. They make music that you’d hear playing in the background of a student pub, although the argument over who’s next on the pool table would stop you paying too much attention to the actual songs.

It can be tough to maintain enthusiasm for gangs of garage rock guys with guitars. The Heights have got at least one thing going for them – the vocal chords of Owain Ginsberg. Every fleck of North Wales seems to have been scorched off his vocal chords with a soldering iron. If you could squint with your ear-drums, during the cocky punch of ‘Help Is On It’s Way’, he’s Paul Weller circa ‘Wild Wood’. And when the band are careering through ‘For Real’ like an out of control caboose in a skinny-fit leather jacket, it’s very much Chris Cornell circa ‘Superunknown’.

There’s nothing wrong with ‘Toys and Kings’ – in fact its throaty indie rollicking is better than most of the guff that reeks out either side of those vile Zane Lowe bits on MTV2. But it doesn’t have anything to rocket it somewhere spectacular. I just can't see this ever being anyone’s favourite record – but it could be an a lot of people's top 50.

‘Toys And Kings’ is out now on Best Before Records.