Chances are this Cardiff five piece have passed you by. Its probably not your fault, cos unlike other bands of their ilk, The Long Blondes, Dead Disco etc, the press have hardly been falling over themselves to grant them column inches. I personally find this staggering and tonight, as they launch into a future single ‘Terry’, an audience of eagerly expectant Pipettes fans stop their conversations, strain an ear from the bar, some wandering over to investigate an opening verse that has clearly captivated the vast majority of people here.

I’m not at all surprised. The Hot Puppies debut album, ‘Under The Crooked Moon’, that silently crept onto the shelves earlier this year is a strange but wonderful affair. A brash contradiction of discordant riffs and insanely catchy melodies cemented together by a sharp and often dark lyrical content. Singer Becky Newman Knowingly beautiful but plays the shy almost stage struck little girl routine which has the desired effect, she has all the blokes in her thrall and it becomes quickly apparent that she can effortless work a crowd with quick witted quips and an ability to command attention without dominating arrogance.

The band cross several styles, traditional folk, beatnik, even traces of late 60’s garage psycadelia with an excellent use of some eerie Hammond organ riffs but ultimately it’s intelligent indie pop from the heart. The band launch into the striking ballad ‘Love in Practice Not Theory, where Newman takes the opportunity to engage in banter with a wide eyed boy on the front row as she sings the line, “The one that will make them go weak at the knees, when you dedicate it to me”, smiling as she gestures to him…the poor lad nearly collapses.

By now the whole room is taking note as they strike up the opening chords to the albums trump card, ‘The Girl who was too beautiful’, an inspired lyric chronicling a girl desperately trying to compete with her new boyfriends dead ex girlfriend, a moving if also amusing song baring the brilliant line, “Dear Mariella, things are getting worse it feels like I’m chasing a hearse”.

But it’s the truly heart rendering, “How Come You Don’t Hold Me No More”, that leaves the biggest imprint. Who said emotive ballads are dead, this one strikes home with laser like accuracy and is met with rapturous applause.

The Hot Puppies, by right, should be talked about by all and sundry, darling of the NME, invited to offer opinions on their favourite kind of underwear on Pop World, and who knows this may happen, but for now they are a band gradually being discovered by the unsuspecting but are winning hearts everywhere they turn. This is something you need to be a part of. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

9/10

James Heward