For anyone previously acquainted with eccentric folkies Tunng, the mellifluous voice behind Diagrams will be familiar from the off. It belongs to former Tunng frontman Sam Genders, whose erstwhile folktronica leanings bleed through into Black Light, a distinctly electrified debut under his new monicker. Whilst these pastures new are not a world away from his old musical stomping grounds, Black Light sees Genders add a delicate dimension of digitalisation - a Hot Chip styled dynamic to pair alongside his dry, Goddard-esque vocals.

The flat, English lilt in Genders’ dry voice will no doubt appeal to some immeasurably, but it’s an acquired taste; occasionally set blunt and plain in the mix, obscuring more interesting instrumentation and cutting heavily through the atmosphere as easily as it sits comfortably in the jaunty electro-pop. It’s an unequivocally English voice, a straightforward and unassuming flatness of tone that, for the most part, works with the simplicity of refrains like ‘Animals’ “Never believed in love ’til now / Never believed in love” – you just can’t help but feel the accomplishment of the album’s pop sensibilities may have been bolstered by a more soaring vocal range than that offered by Genders’ calm, matter-of-fact tonality.

Black Light flits from the twang of dancefloor-ready ‘Antelopes’ to the gentle-toned strumming of ‘Night All Night’ with a marked ease and consistent sense of identity. Indeed, it complements Genders’ knack for arrangement – a clear and well-defined ability to use everything from shadowy electronics to post-punk funk in the construction of the sort of taut, cooing pop numbers that Diagrams’ debut specialises in. Between reverberating chords and flickering drum machine rattles there’s a clear and constantly achieved sense of identity, an enthusiasm for broad pop numbers that is set apart from comparable sonic kin like Metronomy, Dutch Uncles or Hot Chip by a substitution of freneticism for a heavy-lidded, quietly cheerful worldview. Unfortunately, without the marked energy that these aforementioned peers offer it’s difficult to become overly excited about the vast majority of this music. It’s brimming with character, yes, but aside from the occasional divergence into tumbling electronics (‘Mills’) or drum-driven allusions to some much-needed hyperactivity (‘Bonus Track’), it’s often a frustratingly muted, modest experience.

On Black Light Genders manages to present a lively, varied set of work; from the sweeping, evocative strings of ‘Peninsula’ to the angular, twilight twang of opener ‘Ghost Lit’, there’s an omnipresent, clearly identifiable voice threaded neatly through a broad range of sounds. It feels like a particularly personal creation for Genders, an album set between the duality of pessimism and of optimism, torn between the anxiety and hope suggested by the album’s paradoxical title. Yet there’s little in the restrained tones of Black Light to suggest that Diagrams will be anything more than a quiet, introspective weekend off from the folk circuit for Genders. There’s little wrong with this endeavour: for the listener it’s a brief fling at a crossroads of twinkling electronica, introspective folk-pop and optimism – warm, full of character, but likely to set only a few hearts racing.