What’s instantly noticeable about Milagres is how much they don’t sound like a Brooklyn band. There’s no garage rock, no punk, no real out-there sonic experimentation… but there is some indie rock, with some gentle post-Antlers, post-Grizzly Bear ambient and electronic jiggery-pokery added on. Debut album Glowing Mouth is almost sweet in its traditional approach to proceedings, but a threat of dullness hangs heavy in the air…

Milagres were originally called The Secret Life of Sofia – which we can all agree is a dreadful name for a band – and self-released a record under that sobriquet in 2008. Following some lineup and, thankfully, name changes Milagres (Portuguese for miracles) was born. Singer/guitarist Kyle Wilson is the driving force behind the band, his voice a combination of Coldplay’s Chris Martin and the late Jeff Buckley – and his curiously British falsetto does fit well with the floating, slower segments of the album. However, it is when the band try to lift the pace and make conventional pop songs that it sits less easily; and this is where the wheels come off.

Some of the slower moments are lovely, though: title track ‘Glowing Mouth’ is distorted synths and electric piano, gentle funk and widescreen emotions, held together by Wilson’s hopeful vocals; and ‘Gentle Beast’ builds to a shimmering guitar crescendo, its baroque pop clearly inspired by Grizzly Bear. It’s with this song that we get the most interesting lyrical content. Wilson was struggling with writers’ block and ended up going on a climbing trip to British Columbia for inspiration – but he ended up seriously injuring himself and writing most of the album confined to his bed. The natural wonders of Canada make themselves known, along with a sense of its impending dangers, with Wilson singing “It’s like the wolves howl out at the wind/They know there’s nothing to kill, and no mate to win/And when the snow comes, the beast puts himself to bed”. I’m not saying there was the proverbial wolf at the door for Wilson, but perhaps that meeting with mortality created the wide-eyed hopefulness of many of the tracks here.

‘For Disposal’ is one such track, building on descending minor piano chords before soaring off thanks to a choir of backing voices augmenting Wilson’s high vocals. Yes, the lyrics suggest a broken relationship, but a recovery too. And that’s what makes the sweetness of Glowing Mouth – there’s no wallowing in self-pity or looking back, although no-one would have blamed Wilson after his experiences.

As mentioned, though, the more traditionally upbeat moments, where the pace is picked up, are the ones that don’t work. Opening salvo ‘Halfway’ and ‘Here to Stay’ make those chilling Coldplay comparisons a near reality, and ‘Lost in the Dark’ is, simply, rather drab.

In the end, Glowing Mouth is just too hit-and-miss to be a good record. However, given Wilson’s ability to overcome personal setbacks, it may be the case that Milagres have the talent to put a patchy debut behind them and go on to making great music. If they are to do this, then the band need to stop being in thrall to their influences, and strike out on their own.