Named for the Greek god of requited love, Anteros have bided their time with this, their debut album. Emerging from London’s indie scene five years ago, the band already have three EPs and a string of singles to their name – many of which haven’t made the cut for When You Land. The band has spoken in interviews about how the differing musical sensibilities of its members has led to a distinctive sound, though this is questionable. While this album has its moments, it too often slips into insipid pop rock, and there is little of originality to be found here.

Album opener ‘Call Your Mother’, an ode to listless post-adolescence, is led by a simple but irresistible guitar riff and explodes into one of the best choruses of When We Land. The band immediately call to mind Blondie with the direct energy of the song, not to mention the vocals of Laura Haydn which teeter between saccharine and acerbic.

It’s a solid start, but things begin to go downhill from here. ‘Honey’ promises with its menacing clipped guitar intro, but the chorus’s aggressive repetition of “fool” grates extremely quickly. ‘Drive On’ evokes the same sort of Hollywood road trip that The Killers have been angling for since the early 2000s, but with lines like “we carry on through a wasteland,” the end result is clichéd in the extreme.

Even ‘Breakfast’, the band's standout single to date, has been re-recorded to its own detriment. The fun dream pop of the original is replaced with a barky vocal delivery and a punkier sound, which feels incongruous with the song's mildly offbeat premise. The album closer ‘Anteros’ benefits from a more interesting arrangement, with piano and organ building, at least, to a suitably climatic finish.

Frothy and with little to enjoy below the surface, When We Land is the musical equivalent of a cheap cappuccino. More specifically, it's an album of eleven occasionally catchy but rarely memorable songs, which suffer from generic lyrics and overly clean production. Anteros are a great live act, but like many guitar bands they have failed to transmit the edge and heaviness that make their shows so exciting.

Wolf Alice, a band with whom they bear more than a passing resemblance, have illustrated how to subvert the tropes of the indie landfill by infusing their melodies with personality and experimentation. Here's hoping Anteros strive for this in album number two and avoid becoming a musical footnote.