Whether or not they called themselves after James Kelman, the Scottish literary chronicler of everything Glaswegian and grim, Kelman the band certainly plough a similarly morose vein of soul searching. The London three-pieces first album is a sombre yet warm-hearted collection of romanticist tales told in unclichéd, uncensored language (again, their namesake would approve). Singer Wayne Gooderhams low-pitch vocals draw the inevitable Leonard Cohen comparisons, as well as conjuring echoes of Lou Reed, amidst the bands skeletal Velvets-like backing. Kelmans basic instrumentation is also given a burst of warmth by the crooning lilt of an always-welcome melodica, giving the songs a certain retro French feel. But there can be no faulting Kelmans commitment to the immediacy or pain of matters of the heart, making this the perfect listen for rejected lovers and winter dreamers everywhere.