2007 was a year where bands like Justice, Digitalism and Hot Chip showed the world that Daft Punk aren’t the only ones who can create accessible and explosive dance anthems.

2008 - only three months in - gives us a reason to dance. We no longer have to cringe and listen to dance remixes of You’re So Vain, because these bands and DJs have revolutionised the dance genre. Neon Neon can join the ranks of the innovators, with a glossy concept album where dance transcends boundaries.

Neon Neon - being one half Gruff Rhys and the other half Boom Rip - sound as you would expect; Welsh eccentricity melded in with the furnishings of LA over-production. Stainless Style is a pick’n’mix of sounds and embodies what is good about musical eclecticism.

The album is based on the life of John DeLorean, whose life as an engineer and businessman gained notoriety for its excess, glamour and scandal. Neon Neon cruise through the sexy, glamour soaked world of his playboy lifestyle.

Belfast, You were my Vietnam, is an overload of Gary Numan, synths and the most relentless brilliance. The solo in the middle is a gothic Dracula induced synth-fest, which is as nigh on to musical perfection as you’re ever likely to get.

It’s not only Belfast that captures the lustre behind Neon Neon’s music. Neon Theme drags you in to do the robot dance before you realise you’re being a chump in front of people. Kraftwerk doesn’t exist anymore but there are plenty of moments in Neon Theme where you can pretend you’re back in the ‘80s wearing black and red, singing about autobahns.

Equal in perfection, Raquel is a caper through the ‘80s, where snobbery is only a word and dignity is forgotten as samba beats play off against a Cyndi Lauper-like electro romp. Neon Neon have avoided the camp/kitsch label which is largely transient. This is seriously fun dance music that should be remembered as such.

It’s about half way through the album when you remember that this is one half Gruff Rhys, and when the sexually charged female moaning emanates from the CD player, that’s where you get a little cynical. Sweat Shop could - and should – have been written by Missy Elliot, and on hearing it, it seems that Rhys has diversified beyond reason. There’s no irony behind the dirty lyrics and it seems a little grubby, especially after I Lust You, which is - quite literally - devilishly sexy.

That aside, Neon Neon’s debut is as close to musical rapture as anyone will get in dance music. It’s difficult to see who else right now can have heavily ‘80s inspired electro-pop songs, Krautrock, the relatively newly named Crunk and hip-hop all mashed together on their debut album. And what’s more is that it is addictively seductive.

There are more retro enthusiasts out there who are probably still grumbling about Bob Dylan’s going ‘electric’. This review is for them – modern music can be subversive, eclectic and electrifying. Neon Neon are living proof.