The lineup: Laura Lloyd (vocals, guitar), Jasamine White-Gluz (vocals, guitar).
The background: "Shoegaze" is one of those scenes or sounds that was peculiar to a specific period – 1988-91, between the release of My Bloody Valentine's You Made Me Realise EP and Nirvana's Nevermind, which shifted the focus away from the Thames Valley towards Seattle – albeit one that has been going in one form or another ever since. Every couple of years there seems to have been a revival of the Scene That Celebrates Itself. This is not so much because the original bands have re-formed but because there has been a continual flow of feedback-and-scree bands, or at least a steady stream of artists who have incorporated many of the elements of those bands and taken them somewhere new. In fact, the original shoegazers have patently refused to capitalise on any latterday interest, refraining from signing up for some nightmare dream-pop package tour of holiday camps as the early-80s "new pop" brigade have so often done. Rather it has been left to musicians such as Ulrich Schnauss and the brilliant Fennesz to take the experiments of MBV et al to the next level – to a more rarefied, electronic-infused, post-ambient place.
Recently, there have been British and American bands, from Engineers to Deerhunter, who have been trying to realise their dream-pop dreams, while a raft of Brooklyn hipsters – Vivian Girls, Crystal Stilts – have teetered on that fine line between girl-group pop and fuzztone rock. Then there are acts such as Best Coast who are only one tremolo arm away from this sort of din – not surprisingly, Beth Cosentino recently declared No Joy "the best band ever" on Twitter. Well, not surprising that she likes them, though surprising, perhaps, that she declared them the greatest in history. Not surprisingly, they're not.
But they do what they do well. No Joy blur, appropriately enough, all of the above stuff, so that their music ends up sounding like a smudged, hazy snapshot of the shoegazing era. Mediumship, the opening track on their debut album Ghost Blonde, is typical of their feedback pop: heavy on the instrumental side of things, but light on invention. Basically, it's more 1986 – more C86, indeed – than 1988; twee with balls. Think MBV minus the shock of the new. They use their guitars to create an evanescent wall of noise while their ethereally doleful vocals leave a vapour trail. Always, you can see the effect they're going for, even if it's a tried-and-tested one. Hawaii is surfcore: early-60s rock'n'roll meets late-80s cumulus wail. Pacific Pride is gentler, while the drifting Indigo Child answers the question: what would Tim Buckley have done in the shoegaze age? And Still is punk shorn of all rage and political ire, leaving just the faintest trace of passion. What else? Oh yes, the girls claim to have met on Jewish dating site JDate.com, and they drafted in a bunch of unknowns to smear themselves in mud for their video for Hawaii – not because they wanted to make a statement about the primal nature of man, but because they "wanted to see naked babes". Fair enough.
The buzz: "A gripping debut album that plunders deep sonically and texturally" – Loud and Quiet.
The truth: It's the scree that celebrates itself.
Most likely to: Live in the Valley.
Least likely to: Live in the Thames Valley.
What to buy: Ghost Blonde is released by Mexican Summer on 2 May.
File next to: Lush, MBV, Vivian Girls, Best Coast.
Wednesday's new band: Stooshe.