Leeds’ The Rosie Taylor Project are an attractive proposition: a band of gentle acoustic lullabies that reference Nick Drake, Kings of Convenience, Iron and Wine, Bonnie “Prince” Billy and any other downbeat, sensitive singer-songwriters you care to mention. This debut album - a whopping eight-tracks long - is like a light breeze of melody, marrying Parisian café sounds with folksy mumbling, singers Jonny and Sophie complementing each other daintily.

It’s all a very subtle wash; the kind of record that you immediately like - especially after a stressful day, when you have a glass of red wine in your hand - but can you love it? It’s too wishy-washy for that. Amidst all the delicate choruses and turns of phrase, there’s a bland undercurrent that holds the album back from greatness. True, restraint is the order of the day, but there’s a sense that if The Rosie Taylor Project decided to, they could burst through the walls of acoustic indie and unveil something epic, vital and exciting.

Ultimately, it’s their decision not to, and we must respect that. But as a result, this record has been created from a strangely limited palette, where five people have stripped back their contributions to the utmost extent until the music they weave sounds like it could dissipate in an instant and dissolve into the air. That’s the hook they hang it on, and yes it’s beautiful: it’ll be perfect for some listeners (especially the chorus of ‘London Pleasures’), but too weedy for others.