Cokefloat marks the first full-length outing for Glasgow-based 3-piece PAWS and, if that wasn’t fantastic news enough in its own right, it’s a frankly stunning opening gambit, a beguiling, infectious and winning adventure in alternative music making which flows from hook to catch with almost effortless sublimity. Not a lot of what’s here has been put out by the band before, again good news - they’ve avoided that first album tendency to compile early singles and EPs into a long player, which is to their great credit, as is the fact that despite so much new material being on offer, it doesn’t take too many listens to get familiar with each song – it soon feels like you’ve been living with these tracks for years, not days and, with repeated exposure, it seems each gets a fair chance to be your favourite for at least a little while, they’re all that good. "Jellyfish" could quite easily be the best song you’ve yet to hear (assuming you haven’t), it has that 3-chord simplicity and 3-minute perfect-pop-song running time that’ll defy you to take your finger off repeat. The lead-line from "Boregasm" is drenched in sunshine and good feeling and comes with added double-clap rhythm to ramp-up the positive vibes. "Sore tummy" has a great double-tracked vocal sound and a sublime breakdown just after the second chorus that then leads into a gorgeous wall-of-noise outro (see more of this later). "Tulip" takes its lead from classic verse-chorus verse-chorus song-writing whilst simultaneously twisting that format on its head – it’s also, coming on the back of the thoughtful slow acoustic "Get Bent", the moment when you get fully seduced by the harmoniousness that runs through the second half of the album, how the band settle, over and over again, into a stride of everything working together perfectly and how almost each work builds into some irresistible sonic avalanche of blissful, beautiful noise. Album closer "Poor old Christopher Robin" is maybe the finest example of this, I’d swear by the end it sounds like Godspeed You Black Emperor!, performing also, as it goes, that 3-piece trick of managing to sound earth-shatteringly massive despite the small forces available. In a previous review of the band I mentioned both the life-affirming brilliance of what PAWS do and also the new vocabulary and new architecture by which they create it – this still holds true, Cokefloat is an album to hold dear for its newness, its repeated freshness, its imagination, its joyful and intended naivety, and it’s difference. Go listen.