If The Flaws had been around in the early-to-mid-nineties, they would probably have been so successful that they'd be shoo-ins for a headline slot at Feile or a similar Irish festival. Then again, if the Monaghan quartet had existed during that era, it's unlikely that bands like the Hothouse Flowers and Lir would have made as big an impression on them as the bands that they're so obviously influenced by today. Although - like their contemporaries Delorentos - The Flaws have a distinctly Irish slant to their sound, their aspirations for the downbeat synth glitz of The Killers' first album, the taut gloom of Interpol's debut and a finely-honed condensation of early U2 material means that though wholly unoriginal, their songs are nonetheless very enjoyable. Lead vocalist Paul Finn's voice soars and swoops simultaneously, sounding at times like Billy Joe Armstrong (Sixteen) and at others like a more frivolous Paul Banks (Slow Dance), while his bandmates' moody basslines and delicately-plucked indie riffs are at once mean, moody and melodic. Despite the unavoidable dissection of The Flaws' inner workings, however, an inescapable fact is that these are just really, really good songs. Opener You and I is a glorious skewed number, No Room is a bouncy, catchy, air-punching anthem, and Lost In A Scene's distinctly '80s sound would have made it a prime candidate for inclusion on the original C86 tape. It's the sound heard on nostalgia-tinged, A-House-esque offering 1981, sombre closer Windmill Talent and driving rock number Out Tonight that subtly sets The Flaws apart from their peers, however; and though it may not be to your personal taste, it's discernable nonetheless. The Flaws can undoubtedly do much better than this, but as debut albums go, it's satisfying without being challenging. Achieving Vagueness? No; Aspiring To Greatness, perhaps.