Wales: a land of mystery and enchantment, where wizards, druids, and dragons frolic in the lush green valleys. An artistically fecund region, the cultural bicep bulging on the mighty arm of England, its musical gifts to the world include perennial perv (Sir) Tom Jones, female Meatloaf Bonnie Tyler, and Bride of Chuckie-turned pop strumpet Charlotte Church. Not a great record, granted, but stone me if it hasn’t just redeemed itself by producing the 21st century’s most exciting proposition in fresh and fizzy, girl-fronted pop-rock yet.

The Hot Puppies are a freakishly beautiful musical hybrid, smashing the dark glamour of a Hitchcock thriller into the gothic carnival atmosphere of a Tom Waits epic and fashioning glorious indie disco out of the resulting carnage. In keeping with the best traditions of Blondie, The Pretenders, and The Patti Smith Band, Aberystwyth’s finest weld sugary and sharp female attitude to a solid and rhythm-driven male backing to create tunes that leave dance floors stiletto-scarred and tear-stained. Witness “Love or Trial,” with an infectious drum and organ opening that yields to melancholy, pouting vocals. Wheeling lyrically and musically between the giddy rush of new love and the deep pangs of uncertainty, it’s a tune that manages to elicit both euphoria and gloom.

Gloom turns to doom in the haunted doll’s house-like “The Party.” Rocky Horror-esque girl/boy voices breathily intone a set of increasingly disturbed lyrics like “I would kill, I would die, to be inside skin so tight” over a bizarrely glam-rock riff and a wondrously camp-vamp theremin.

The sublime title of “The Drowsing Nymph” can be taken as a reference to the 19th century poet Nora May French (Yes kids! It’s obscure cult art heroine time!) who committed suicide by cyanide at 26. Becky Newman’s swooning phrasing is replete with the kind of teen goth queen grandeur and histrionics you’d expect from a tragic Romantic poetess groupie, but her tongue is firmly in her rouged cheek, and the punchy kick-drum adds a pert piquancy to the melodrama.

As the international resurgence of girl-rock continues apace, the Celtic spin on things is a frivolous treat. For those non-Brits who think Wales is some kind of London suburb, once you’ve experienced how The Hot Puppies bring it, Cymraeg-style, you’ll see it’s another world entirely.

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