And these cracks between definitions are where the seeds of Diagrams (the product of former Tuung frontman Sam Genders) grow from. Essentially, Black Light sounds like Tom Vek giving Sufjan Stevens a piggyback with Gruff Rhys and Guy Garvey looking on and yelling encouragement. It is a sumptuous blend of jerking rhythms, sweet melodies, sonic oddities, electronic loops, acoustic guitars and gruffly endearing admonishments. Much of it is comprised of taut white-boy grooves, as neatly emphasised on the euphoric ‘Tall Buildings’, the alternating wire-strung snap and orchestral swells of ‘Appetite’ and the Vek vs. Elbow tussle and skitter of ‘Mills’. Diagrams are however, remarkably adept at developing neatly ramshackle bric-a-brac’s of a softer nature: opener ‘Ghost Lit’ and ‘Night All Night’ being particularly striking examples of this. It manages to do an approximation of ‘Close To Me’ by The Cure at a Laser Quest disco on the title track and even twists the melodic fanfares of Sufjan’s ‘The Tallest Man, The Broadest Shoulders’ in a weirdly wonderful manner on ‘Antelope’: this is not an album lacking in confidence, ambition or skill. The closing ‘Peninsula’ wraps everything up in a suitably epic manner: the warm, sweet introduction building into a marvellous electronic charge towards the finish line. Throughout it all run a continual series of neatly tessellating rhythms – rhythms that change and vary but eventually re-appear around the record in a cyclical manner. It is this commitment to the beat and the groove that ultimately helps to pin the record together, allowing the free-form ideas and melodic prettiness to bloom without any concern or threat.

Aside from the quality and continual innovation, one of the strongest compliments that can be given to Black Light is that each and every track sounds distinct and individual, suggesting that Genders has chosen to intentionally vary his angle of approach. I’ve always considered that to be a mark of both quality and confidence in a musical outfit: it is very easy to simply repeat but more challenging and ultimately rewarding to vary, reframe and reposition your sound. If there’s one thing to consider putting on the Diagrams wish-list, it is that one or two stridently mainstream-orientated singles could very easily push them into the centre of public attention (in the same way that Hot Chip achieved with ‘Over and Over’). Whether Diagrams actually want this is another question entirely, but in a just and fair world, many more people would be listening to music of this undoubted calibre. And after all, the likes of Talking Heads and The Beatles got away with the weird and darkly experimental stuff because they surrounded them with gleaming and easily accessible gems.

Ultimately, despite the cerebral design of the record – its intelligently constructed archways, its tastefully decorated corners and its whip-smart grooves – the feeling I walked away from Black Light with was one of joy and intense satisfaction. And ultimately, isn’t that – aside from any genre definitions or boundary lines – the true definition of great pop music? Words are interchangeable, feelings less so. A delightful and thoroughly rewarding piece of work. – David Edwards

It’s an effervescent album full of successful and unpretentious ideas – a less safe pair of hands could easily have resulted in esoteric Shoreditch wank but Genders and co have created a heady combination of diversity and invention without losing any pop sensibility. The thing that immediately hits you is that there’s no doubt or chin-stroking while you wait for a track to grow on you – this album gets it’s hooks into you immediately. Fans of the genre may desire something more emotionally distant, but the warmth of Genders’ approach is the album’s greatest asset and goes a long way to make Black Light an enjoyable delight. (Darren Lee)