Picture the scene. It's 4:30 on a summer Sunday morning. You walk through the empty streets of your city with nothing but clothes plastered to your skin with sweat. The odd wispy cloud drifts across the skyline, the birds begin their morning calls and all around you the world is still save for the relentless beat of the night before that remains locked inside you. There's nothing, there's no-one, except you and the world and the beat.

That feeling you're getting? That feeling is Delphic.

Delphic are one of the first big new bands of 2010, a three-piece from Manchester who have veered away from the city's cliché tracksuit-clad lad-rock (hi, The Courteeners!) towards a far more interesting fusion of guitar-led house music. And in doing so they've produced an album that is really quite good.

'Acolyte' is a dreamy, ethereal twisting of guitars and synths that doesn't compromise in its desire to be a dance album. The title track is a 9-minute long instrumental designed more to be played in the clubs of Ibiza than the average indie kid's bedroom. While other tracks are slightly more accessible, the likes of 'Redlights' and 'Halcyon' evoke the same feelings.

Standout tracks include 'Clarion Call', the most energetic song on the album that acts as the opening rally for the night ahead, and 'Submission', a potential anthem that kicks off with heady synths twisting into hedonistic ecstasy before plunging down into gritty guitar riffs. Nothing however can match the sheer bliss of 'This Momentary' (linked below), a floating cloud of a track that mixes the best vocals on the albums with thundering drum beats. It epitomises the whole album, summing up Delphic in a succinct 4 minutes. It's like, well, it's like being alone in the world on a summer Sunday morning.