LA duo Flaamingos often draw comparisons to Manchester’s favourite dour lads, Joy Division. Indeed, there’s a grim British Northern-ity and a plethora of analogue synths, proto-shoegaze fuzz, shards of punk and almost-comatose vocals that they share. The two acts run parallel with their post-punk jamborees, though there are also major dissimilarities: there’s a wide-eyed pop pang in Flaamingos sound, and they dabble with gloopy ’90s textures much more readily. Despite the pair – Daniel Koontz and Jerry Narrows – hailing from the palms’n’beach bums of Los Angeles, there’s a rich Britishness to their sound, which roughly translates to them sounding anhedonic.

‘Fin Du Monde’, juxtaposing against the melodrama of its moniker, is deliciously peppy. There’s a grungy streak that forces you to remember that the twosome were born and bred across the pond, but aside from that, it’s again pretty British, with early ’90s fuzzgaze dominating the sound – think along the lines of Kitchens Of Distinction and/or The Durutti Column. ‘She’s Never Satisfied’ essentially boils down to Koontz and Narrows taking a stab at modernising ‘She’s Lost Control’ with its rampant, erotic percussion and gritty ’80s council estate melodies as the vocals come across all deathly dark, simmering with a sinister lust.

On their debut effort, Flaamingos manage to channel a deluge of admirable acts. There are the obvious nods to Ian Curtis & Co. as well as a bit of New Order, but also a few more subtly hidden flecks (Bloc Party’s devilish angst crops up in ‘All I Wanna Do Is Live’ – Silent Alarm era, of course). Jagged entwined axes and maudlin poetry pepper the cut – “Found the dotted line/ It travels from a distance every night/ all those paintings/ stitches in fabric/ I admit I want to be your habit.” You can easily hear legendary outfits like The Smiths, as well as contemporary bands such as M O N E Y and more straight-up indie rock á la Editors. Although there are lines to be drawn between Flaamingos and others, they resist gravitating towards a tribute full of derivatives by imbuing their distinctly post-punk wares with the wooze and appeal of dream-pop.

‘Fractured Love’ has a robotic baritone ringing throughout. The instrumentation is delicate in comparison to the rest of the record, and the melodic bass guitar has a platform from which to shine. Bass is relatively underused, still, so when an intriguing riff rears its head, it’s easy to magpie and adore. The percussion is frail and flighty, and the textures lucid; guitars glimmer and vox fade like a fever dream. ‘Fall With Me’ stands out as something different. It’s a trippy, mushroom-d effort with a swirling visage. Throbbing synths and shattered words (and samples) float aimlessly with a hypnotic M.O. – it’s more psych-pop than post-punk.

Absorb the shadows that Koontz/Narrows lob in your vicinity; it’s got a goth-lite mentality; at points will incite transcendent bouts of thought, and at others a furious fit of arm-flail jiving. Flaamingos will nest in your mind.