YOU CAN BET your life that any record called Lughnasa is going to have more than its fair share of Celtic influences and, sure enough, Chimera's debut album indulges in the same sort of wistful romanticism that has kept Clannad in gainful employment these past 20 years.

That's where the comparisons with the family Brennan end though. The Belfast four piece might celebrate their Irishness - as distinct from Oirishness - but theirs is a decidedly contemporary approach which uses the Cocteaus and dearly departed Sugarcubes as a platform from which to launch into uncharted territory.

First to leap is lead singer Eileen Henry who, like Liz Fraser and Bjork, has a voice capable of switching from a whisper to a banshee's wail mid-syllable. It doesn't always make for easy listening but with a scabby layer of distorted-to-fuck guitar underneath, I guess it's not supposed to.

The band are also masters of the descriptive song title, 'Slowburn' quietly smouldering away before exploding into a searing wall of white noise and 'Ellis Bleeds' assuming the role of a confessional as Henry reveals her innermost secrets.

Taking a leaf - and the odd riff - out of the New Order Book of Pop Subversion, Chimera aren't afraid to offset this soul searching with sudden delicious bursts of melody. Driven along by a thumping bassline that Hooky himself would be proud of, 'Cyan Daze' is already a strong contender for single of the year and proof that hummable choruses and emotional intensity are not mutually exclusive commodities.

I can't imagine them giving the Kylies and Take Thats of this world too many sleepless nights but 'I Need You' and 'Innocence' are no slouches in the toe-tapping department either, sharply barbed paeans to the dark side of love which anyone nursing a broken heart will be able to relate to intimately. The moral here is that if you have to suffer, at least try and do it tunefully!

Chimera save their best shot for last, sending the drummer and the effects pedals home early and creating a song so delicate and soothing that it's almost a lullaby. I never used to believe in this 'parting is such sweet sorrow' gumph but after using up a box of Kleenex on 'Push', I think I've just changed my mind.

The press release describes Lughnasa as 'fairy tales for grown-up people' and, for once, they're not wrong. A stunning debut.

• Stuart Clark