The Intervals are a band for and of our time. The lazy, semi drunk slurs of a vocal, the furious guitar work and the neat drumming all come together to make a fine set of songs that would sit happily alongside any number of today's more famous indie acts.

In particular, the band shares a certain similarity to the work of Pete Doherty and Carl Barat. They could, perhaps, call themselves the "Dirty Baby Teens", but The Intervals is probably better.

Made in Britain:

Once there was a time when bands only ever seemed to emulate the habits of a decade long dead American grunge hero called Kurt. If nothing else, it is a credit to the revival in the fortunes of British guitar music that local bands such as The Cardinals and now The Intervals (I'm still waiting for a band to call themselves "The Definite Articles") are finding their inspiration in more recent homegrown music.

Lyrically, the songs of The Intervals are about difficulties and missed opportunities, of being "face to face with the enemy" (or is that "NME") and having to concede defeat. "We don't see each other for days," runs the opening lyric of "Graverobbers", "talking without meaning". All hope has gone from relationships, not just with lovers, but also with friends.

What's that Coming over the Hill (is it a Graverobber?):

This opening track is heavily riff driven, recalling (or anticipating - as this song was written quite a while ago) not just The Libertines, but also The Automatic. A gravelly vocal launches into the lyrics with much bile.

It's a fast, furious song with a high speed guitar noodling its way through the melody, while the lyrics hint at regret for a future that might have been. The song ends with a barage of nihilistic chanting: "On the outside, there's nothing - on the outside, there's nothing." Still, at least you can dance to it.

Drunk in Charge of a Song Lyric:

Track Two, "Dirty White Boys" is pure Libertines/Babyshambles/Dirty Pretty Things. If you listen carefully you could probably hear someone say "Tonight Cat, I'm going to be Pete Doherty." I didn't hear it myself, but that doesn't mean it's not there.

In true Doherty style, "Dirty White Boys" is a drunken ramble of a song, verging on the incomprehensible. There's something about "seven dirty white boys", "he don't know" and "a scramble on the stair". It's the musical equivalent of an inebriated old bloke sitting at your table in the pub: completely unintelligible, slightly disturbing, yet always entertaining.

A Perfect Interval:

The Intervals may be ape-ers of Mssrs. Doherty and Barat, but they do it very well - with a spark of imagination that can't just be lifted from "Up the Bracket". So, here's to The Intervals. Long may they continue.

28/06/06 - First published on www.bbc.co.uk/gloucestershire