The last year and half has seen the The Cor Damme Lars build a solid reputation for themselves on Guernsey’s music scene, first as a trio and then really hitting their stride as a five piece with bass (Tom Bradshaw) and drums (Andy Nicholson) added to their mandolin (Gemma Honey), violin (Sarah Van Vlymen), accordion (Jade Kershaw) and harmonised vocals.

Now their debut album, Tangled Lies, has landed, following a high energy launch night at The Mariners Inn, presenting their brand of Eastern European inspired folk music in almost too clear and crisp a form.

As one might expect the album shines a greater light on the five-piece’s songwriting than their live shows and it reveals a remarkable duality within the band that, I think, is what has been one of the keys to their popularity, even if that’s partly subconscious.

At the simplest level this comes across in the style of the music as is takes a very traditional sound and set of instruments and the aforementioned Eastern European folk flavour, but throws in a modern twist in both in the subject matter and the sound which borrows rhythms from ska and more.

While I’m sure there is plenty of folk music about enjoying a good drink, I doubt there’s much talk of shots and getting ‘off your face’ or ‘smoking through your dirty stash’ quite like there is here, along with other clear signs of modernity.

This sense of duality continues as the songs are, for the most part (and as the band ably demonstrate live), the sort of upbeat tracks that feel designed to get people on their feet and dancing, but, listening and reading the lyrics (printed in the rather nicely designed booklet that comes with the physical version) it’s clear there’s a strong streak of melancholy and youthful heartbreak present too.

This is balanced in a way similar to a lot of ska-pop-punk so it somehow to take songs of potential heartbreak and make something great for singing along to.

This leads me to another of the aspects of duality present as, while on paper the whole enterprise could look tremendously arch and, dare I say it, hipster, it’s clear the music and lyrics come from a genuine place and likely real experience (except, one hopes, the more fantastical feeling Ormer God).

While the songs have a lot to like and, plenty to discover on re-listening, the album does fall down slightly on the production.

Recorded in almost DIY conditions in that most traditional of Guernsey band recording spaces of a converted Second World War bunker by Brunt and Guernsey Gigs’ Elliott Mariess, things certainly sound clear and crisp, but the mix leaves things a little flat losing something of the live energy that is the band’s calling card and at points the vocals appear to be emanating from a nearby cave, so get a little lost.

There are points where the ‘studio approach’ is used to add something new to the songs, with extra overdubs in a few places or, as on Ormer God, the stereo sound is used to bring the call and response chorus through in an interesting way, but often it just means all the tracks merge together somewhat more than they do live.

Despite this the songwriting still shines through and Tangled Lies remains a fine collection of songs and is definitely an enjoyable listen, at its best falling somewhere between the sounds of fellow islanders The Recks and gypsy punks Gogol Bordello (given my limited sphere of reference for this style).

So far it has also grown on me with each play and should go a down well with fans of the band while also working as a great primer for those who’ve yet to experience them live and it has something which is great to hear in that, for those of us who spot the references, it really could only come from our islands.