After hearing the rip-roaring 'London Bound' and it's pummelling concoction of 80s guitars and gung-ho percussion, there were many who leapt to keyboards crying "C-86! C-86!" in regards to Leeds indie-pop quartet Just Handshakes (sans the cutesy '(We're British)' for those who were familiar with their previous incarnation). Given, it is jangly, shambly and there are spates of powerful pop glory, and regardless of genre, it's terrific.

Now we've got the full-length record, Say It, clutched in our restless hands. It does lose some of that '86 sound, and develops the primitive indie into something bigger - there are still moments the resemble the pioneering genre, but on the whole this is something grander. It's very spatially aware, soaring into cavernous canyons one minute and tucking itself into a tiny crevice the next; their tonal shifts are expertly controlled. Despite dropping the latter half of their original moniker, there is still a sweet vein in Just Handshakes, and it's evident they've not quite lost their twee edge, though it's not a fixture of the sound.

'Shadows', far from being a dour Joy Division-esque effort, is cheerily optimistic and speckled with rays of golden sun - it's the kind of track you'd blare from your car along country roads and alongside pastures. Vocalist Clara Patrick's voice is the main offender when it comes to the sugariness of Just Handshakes' sound; it's akin to Pomplamoose in saccharinity. Saying that, Patrick's dulcet tones are accompanied by a nonchalant bite, an aggressive apathy. Her tone can be fickle, and when she coos sweetly she may actually be cursing your family. She never actually snaps - unfortunately - but she has an ability to convey an aloofness and superiority that's just as damning. It's great, and provides a different side to her that's a masochistic pleasure to see.

'Running Wild' is solid indie-rock. There's plenty of fret mastery on offer, and the chorus even feels like Two Door Cinema Club are lending a hand (they're definitely not). It follows on from opener 'London Bound', and is pretty similar in timbre. The succeeding cut is 'Kiwi', a far grittier brand of indie, with fuzzy guitars and disconnected riffs over grungy bass. It's a nice change from the perpetual pep. The title track hints at the 50s in its opening jaunty chord sequences, but when the pop-rock chorus hits you'll forgot all about nostalgia and the past and just want to pogo until frenzied.

Say It feels very rounded. Just Handshakes have a distinct sound, and they've spent twelve tracks fully exploring the confines of that style; although superficially it might sound same-y after a point, there are bajillions of subtle differences that are obvious after a couple of listens. Many will treasure this record dearly, and critics of the future will revere Just Handshakes' debut LP when they hark back to our quaint 2013 from their hover-desks. It may not have the oomph or bombast of an instant classic, but it's a grower, and it will do what growers to best. Grow on you. Because that's what growers do.