What do you get on the debut album by the granddaddy of Scottish indie; the guy who should have found fame a decade ago but was – I guess – too fucking weird for anyone to care?

Jackie McKeown. You know, Jackie McKeown? No? OK then. Well…onesuponatime, there was this amazing band from Glasgow called The Yummy Fur (a name sure to send a few indie hearts a-flutter). The Yummy Fur wrote songs that dripped with irony, attacked British Rail, name-checked Mount Vesuvius and sounded like carnage having sex with a blazer factory. They were a bit like Wire but with a much better sense of humour, worse clothes and shorter songs. And they became quite revered by arty types in Scotland (just as Postcard Records had done a decade or so earlier). And then, some bloke called John Peel got into them. And then...nothing. Well, a couple of great independent albums that never sold anything, a couple of line up changes. Eventually the keyboardist and drummer left to form Franz Ferdinand. Yep.

The band’s major talent – singer John – laid low for a while, reappearing in 2006 with a new band (1990s) and new name (Jackie). You know, Jackie McKeown?

So, 1990s got signed dead easily (thanks Franz), and Cookies is the result. It’s great. Jackie has lost none of his give-a-shit attitude concerning lyrics (“I know/What you know/And you know/A scarecrow”), and almost every song here boasts – BOASTS! – about taking drugs. Every song also sounds like it originally wanted to top those end of year cool lists, before realising that – as The Rezillos/Garry Mulholland would have it – it’s way better to be...uncool.

Much like their southern contemporaries Art Brut, it’s 1990s lax attitude towards, well, everything that makes them so endearing. Rather than chastising shit nightclubs and expensive taxi fares, they give you fantastic three-chord gutter-pop songs about arcades, forests, shoes, Christmas trees and Lady Di. And every single one of these songs goes out of its way to be overtly joyous. Even the two depressing ones (‘Weed’ and ‘Situation’) manage it.

If you’re wondering why The Arctic Monkeys and Razorlight leave you feeling cold, unloved and slightly confused at what all the fuss is about, then rest assured – it’s because 1990s nicked all the fun from their music and made Cookies with it. (Matt Wilkinson)