Glasvegas is pleasant and earnest

Glasvegas Glasvegas (Columbia)

It's a novel concept—pin together the guitar grandeur of U2 and the girl-group arrangements and wall-of-sound production of Phil Spector and top it all off with a defiantly Scottish brogue, and you have Glasvegas, the latest hotshot British band reinventing the 1980s. The band's self-titled debut is a pleasant enough, if overly earnest, hour of U.K. guitar pop; its stunning production and thrillingly fuzzy guitars make it satisfying in doses, but it's a drag to get through in one sitting. The pace rarely wavers from the mid-tempo anthem setting, and each song ends in a too-predictable crescendo of distortion and singer James Allan's drawn-out choruses. (The mopey piano ballad "Stabbed," as in, "I'm gonna get stabbed," is the exception.) But there's something comforting about it, too—the unashamed depth of Allan's sincerity is disarming and, in its own way, a little bit likable.