Let's get the lineage out of the way first, because Montelimar certainly aren't shy about it. The chiming twelve-strings, the layered harmonies, the unmistakable whiff of The La's and Teenage Fanclub — it's all present and correct, filtered through a very English sense of melody that stretches back to The Kinks and forward through The Beatles' more kaleidoscopic moments. But where lesser bands would simply be content to raid the dressing-up box of 60s guitar pop, Montelimar do something more interesting: they smuggle in the atmospherics of Radiohead and the woozy psychedelic haze of The Horrors, so that what should feel like straightforward homage instead comes out sounding curiously modern, even urgent.

That tension — between the warm nostalgia of the reference points and the restless, searching quality of the arrangement — is what makes "Rainbows" so satisfying. The song doesn't so much build as unfurl, easing you in with hypnotic, intimate verses before the whole thing blossoms into a euphoric, technicolour chorus that earns every one of its comparisons to Real Estate's more expansive moments. And then, just as you've settled into the glow of it, the track has the good sense to end on a note of abrupt silence rather than fade meekly away — a small structural decision, but one that speaks to a band who understand the value of leaving an audience wanting rather more.

Vocalist Aeron Corbett deserves particular credit here. There's an unforced quality to his delivery that never tips over into affectation, letting the song's lyrical preoccupations — the search for hope and beauty amid a noisy, fractured world — land with a directness that could easily have curdled into cliché in less careful hands. Alongside him, guitarist Tim Cox layers texture upon texture without ever cluttering the mix, while bassist Mike O'Neill's melodic lines and vocal harmonies give the whole thing its underlying warmth. Drummer Luke Norris, meanwhile, resists the temptation to simply keep time, instead nudging the track's dynamics along with a real sense of purpose.

Producer John Martindale, working out of Blank Studios in Newcastle, deserves a mention too — this is a record that sounds like four musicians actually playing together in a room, all spontaneity and chemistry intact, rather than the sterile, over-engineered product of a laptop session. It's a choice that suits the material perfectly; you can practically feel the air in the room.

For a debut single, "Rainbows" carries itself with a striking lack of first-single nerves. There's ambition here, certainly, but it's worn lightly, and the result is a song that feels less like a calling card and more like the opening line of a much longer, and rather promising, story. On the strength of this alone, Montelimar look like a band worth keeping half an eye — and both ears — on.