I can't see this record coming out in any other time but the summer. And not any summer; an hallucinatory-level hot season in the city without air conditioning, with the blinds of every building permanently down and the streets' fountains trying to accommodate every kid (and grown-up) hoping to refresh themselves. The debut LP from The Bees' Aaron Fletcher and Tim Parkin's new project 77:78 navigates that unreal underworld our own mind creates after the body has been subjected to constant coups de soleil: the colours brighter, the sounds clearer, the emotions deeper.

Jellies is a remarkably mature ensemble of perfectly-crafted tunes, something that may sound uncanny for a debut album. However, we're not talking about newcomers; Fletcher and Parkin utilise their previous Bees' expertise of how to properly approach and develop a tune in order to deliver a solid, cohesive, and multicoloured package.

Opening in grand style with the addictive 'If I'm Anything', it's 'Love Said (Let's Go)', the song that made me pay due attention to what was coming our way, that indeed constitutes the album's quintessential track; similar vibe-wise to early Doors and other L.A. proto-psych, it mixes excitement and darkness, the synths allied to the delayed voices echoing an underlying sadness of the surfer lost in the sea, of the teenage killed in a juvenile inconsequent car race, of grass stains in a summer dress denouncing a temporary abandonment of the group to go fuck behind the dunes.

The album is otherwise multi-referential without ever giving us the "been there done that" feeling: 'Copper Nail' even oscillates between tropicalism (remember The Bees' cover of Os Mutantes' 'A Minha Menina'?), calypso, and a slight Mexican accent, urging you to ask for another of those fancy colourful cocktails that come with an umbrella. 'Chilli' is a raw garage delight reminiscent of that uncanny phase between the British Mod sound of the Small Faces and the early West Coast psychedelia of Love. And then there's the omnipresent BritPop-meets-Halasan Bazar, the Beta Band ghost throughout (a special mention for 'Poor It Out'), the funky brass section of 'Shepard's Song', the deep voiced-country of 'Situations', and the uplifting freakout of 'Wagons'.

Although it brings nothing new sonically, Jellies is a magnificent example of how a déjà-vu doesn't have to be a mere repetition: it constructs instead of occupying, pays tribute instead of mimetising, carries on instead of resurrecting. I have no idea where 77:78 are going to go from here but I can hardly wait to find out.