Native Torontoans (Torontites? Torontonians?) DIANA have been mustering murmurs across the internet with their pastel synthpop; some are keen to yell 'chillwave!', hoping it'll stick to the foursome, but in reality, they're more like an opiate-addled CHVRCHES. The much-vaunted act spew viral pop music, brimming with synth hooks and gorgeous vocals (many thanks to singer Carmen Elle for those), but also passages of sprawling, hypnotic electronica and tender emotional refrains. They drag an air of somnolent solemnity into some efforts via soft bleep-bloops, but inject the balls-out pop of the 80s into others. There's plenty of good reasons why there's been so much e-chatter about this quintet.

Part of DIANA's core - Joseph Shabason - was the man behind the sax on Destroyer's 2011 album, Kaputt, they've got links to Hidden Cameras and Army Girls, and the band are set to tour with Austra imminently. There's been some lines drawn between the electro-pop outfit and Rhye (also Toro Y Moi and Friends). Basically, they're ticking all the right boxes and have confidants in high places. With their debut LP - Perpetual Surrender - they're set to whittle out a cranny of their own and make themselves a name detached from previous endeavours.

'Anna' has laconic beats and the kind of synths you'd find on an obscure surrealist short film from the late 70s or 80s. It's got a faded hallucinogen vignette chic, sort of like old anti-drug propaganda. Elle's distorted vox, blurred behind a deluge of static, only compound that atmosphere. It's a sparkling, icy-cool bout of synth-pop; there's a vague R&B/soulfulness to the proceedings, not at the forefront, but noticeably there - a hint of AlunaGeorge, perhaps. 'Strange Attraction' features gloomy, broken shards of samples. Everything's disjointed, it's a ramshackle construction that barely survives the verses - when the chorus hits, towering hooks and stadium hugeness descends like a veil.

They are plenty of pensive moments too. 'Curtains' is a sprawling hymnal affair, with synth organs and the everlasting echoes of snare; soon there are cascades of cinematic strings and the kind of sci-fi twinkles that belong on the bridge of spaceships. It's morose and futuristic, building towards a post-rock crescendo at the end, which instead of attaining an expected pinnacle of loudness, just sort of dissipates into the ether. With throbbing bass and neo-soul vocals, 'New House' eats away at your ears. It's like sonic acid - not particular combative, but corrosive - and just eats away at your soul with emotional weight and lazy, tropical chilled-out vibes. By the time all is said and done on the track, you'll be ready to melt.

DIANA have proven themselves worthy of the hype on Perpetual Surrender. There's lots of nods to contemporaries, but plenty of individual achievements too - they're masterful at blending the sharp 80s pop with quicksilver synths and Elle's sublime pipes are a wonder to listen to (especially on the sax-led title track and effervescent cut, 'Born Again').

It would be nice to hear a few more massive single type efforts, like 'Foreign Installation' or 'Strange Attraction', as they have such a knack for 'big pop'. It tends to feel a mite restrained, which is fine, but a more noticeable contrast would knock this record from a double-thumbs up to something worthy of worship.