Dientes - Numbers & Stations

The basics: Dientes are a four-man rock band from Warrington, North West England, currently 'unsigned' (although with the internet, who needs a label, these days?). They funded the mastering for their debut album, Numbers & Stations, through Kickstarter, and generally enjoy what you could call 'local acclaim'.

Numbers & Stations is, without doubt, a rock album. Nothing 'alternative', nothing particularly pigeonholeable - there are two guitars, three voices, one bass, and a set of drums, played with more than soupcon of skill, to songs which bury their way into your head. 'Lizzy' kicks off with a groovy riff, and quite British vocals (as you would expect). It sounds quite Queens of the Stone Age, but filtered through a heavily North-Western lens; nothing here sounds American as such, although West and Southern rock do have a strong influence.

One of the best songs, riffs and moods comes along on 'Stoner', which gives a further hint to its sonic provenance. Crawling along, it sounds a lot darker, a lot less good-time-band-in-a-bar (not to knock that - from Lynyrd Skynyrd to Dr Feelgood, via just about most real R&B bands, having a good time has a tradition) than its immediate predecessor. 'Shine' puts me in mind of a point somewhere between Elbow and U2 - more guitars than their fellow North-Westerners, but less stadium-gazing than Bono and his merry band.

'Bring You Down' is another stomper, one to nod along to - a proper throwback to the late 70s here, inviting you to cruise slowly down a desert road… with Morrissey and a slinky guitar solo. 'Infinitive' mines that darker seam, which explodes into a big old riffathon in the last couple of minutes, while 'Finding It half' is a more twangy, jangly 'ballad' which switches up a gear to another fearful guitar outburst at the end.

'Nothing to Say' doesn't really say much, but rattles along nicely. After a brief interlude, 'Mission Ray' struts out of the Guns N' Roses school of swaggering metal, amid lots of revolutions coming to town. This track saves one of the best guitar solos till the near end of the album, a clever bit of pacing, the art of which is slowly going down the pan in the age of shuffle. 'The Factory' is possibly the poppiest, reminding me of The Vines in their less aggressive moments, drawing on that soft-rock vein, although, as you should expect by now, there's a bit of a bang in the middle where the pedals get stomped and the squealing guitars go a bit wild.

Closing with burgeoning epic 'What You Want', you get what you should expect - a gamut of rock from first to last, from a good old gigging band, making it locally and doing what they can to spread the word. If you like guitars, and a significant lack of pretension, then get this album, and get it here.