In the lucrative lottery which 80s Pop has become, the concept of a hermetically sealed sound and visual from a group has reached an obsessive level. Seemingly gone are the days when a band could through a few sideways shapes to cause a mild panic in the Marketing Department or head off at an aural tangent to befuddle radio programmers. These are the days of THE PERFECT PACKAGE, no confusion, no doubts, no leeway… NO FUN.

The Stars of Heaven would hardly qualify for the title of a Fun Band as the Golden Horde of Fleadh Cowboys would, but their disregard for the careerist antics which have dogged most Irish bands this decade shows a humour which borders on the perverse. Live, they can occasionally seem more solemn than their music or personalities indicate - but when they connect, the effect can be truly staggering. And never more so than on this, their 'official' full-length debut.

The 1986 mini-album Sacred Heart Hotel suggested that The Stars had potential in abundance. A fine lyrical ability coupled with a well-developed sense of their musical lineage was marred only by an excusable lack of studio experience and a sneaking suspicion that the band's 'Indie' status was preying rather heavily on their minds. But then the Holyhead EP came as a revelation, its clarity and restraint, making it one of the singles of last year. But even 'Holyhead' couldn't have prepared the listener for Speak Slowly.

Due to various delays involving artwork and a crucial Stephen Street remix, a tape of the album has been nestling comfortably in my possession for almost six months. In that time I've come to the conclusion that Speak Slowly is the best Irish album I've heard since Ghostown. The thrill of watching a band develop from the stage of paying homage to their music idols (and falling through drumkits) to such a flowering of talent has never been greater than with this record.

The Stars have captured their essence as a band, transcended their influences and produced a collection of songs which by turns, are plaintive, proud and at times painfully shy. Their standard guitars/bass/drums/vocals line-up is embellished, where necessary, with discreet keyboards, violin, accordion and additional guitars from Partison Conor Brady and the enhancement of their beguiling melodies is a model of taste and restraint, Stephen Street's remix adding a definition which, paradoxically, lends an even more enigmatic feel to the songs. But, excellent production (by Paul Barrett) aside it's the songs themselves which place Speak Slowly in the pantheon of Irish rock.

Perversely enough they've chosen to open the set with what is relatively the weakest tract, 'Unfinished Dreaming', the gung-ho snare crack at the start reminiscent of 'Born in The U.S.A.' and the main riff being less-than-distant from that bastion of biker mythology, 'Born To Be Wild'.

But from 'Little England', the quality and diversity of the material never slackens. 'Little England' itself is an open assault on the mentality which keeps foreign money flowing into terrorist coffers, "Sacred tragedy for the tourist trade", and finds Stephen Ryan, surely the most under-rated vocalist in the country, at his stinging best.

'Every Other Day' is slowed down to dirge pace from its previous incarnation of the 'Guru Weirdbrain' album, allowing the evocative lyrics a breathing space they'd been previously denied. But a track-by-track analysis of the album would be pointless. The Stars have produced a body of work which is as utterly timeless as only the very best music can be, a record which reveals more subtleties with each playing and which is as rich in melody and warmth as one could hope for.

Speak Slowly finds The Stars looking down from a shining firmament of their own creation. And the view must be marvellous.