Another day, another sparkling pop gem comes winging out of a grungily cool west London recording studio. The Days are hunkered down in Eastcote, the vibey little wellspring of much of the last Arctic Monkeys’ album. They’re hard at it, demoing new songs: b-sides, future singles, ideas for albums two, three, four…

Blessed with a profusion of crisp tunes, The Days have put in serious studio time, some of it with Youth. Now, some young bands would be daunted by the prospect of working with the uber-producer behind records by everyone from The Verve to Primal Scream via INXS – as The Days cheerfully admit, ‘Youth is mental, in a good way. He knows how to get the best out of people.’ But The Days weren’t daunted: for one thing, they’ve been in and out of studios for much of the last year, working working working, finessing their skills. For another, The Days don’t know how to write songs that are not hits.

And so just this morning they’ve banged out “Hey You” and “Dream On”. Already, even in demo form, they sound sold-gold smashes-in-waiting. The former is a chugging, moshpit banger. The latter is a soaring, heartfelt anthem that recalls Crowded House in their Distant Sun heyday. Both sound like the soundtrack to 2009 already.

The Days are from distant (from most places) Devon. They don’t come from a big city, buffeted by currents of cool and happenin’ scenes. Growing up in Ivybridge, near Plymouth, they messed around with adolescent bands. Individually and as a group they developed their musical ears by tuning into the special stuff that defies geography and genre: big melodies, honest lyrics, pure pop.

 

Luke Simpkins (vocals/piano), Dan Simpkins (bass), Harry Meads (drums) and Tim Ayers (guitar) have known each other from the age of 12, when they all attended the same school. Well, brothers Luke and Dan have known each other a lot longer, obviously. Their first band was criminally underrated Undercurrent, led by ten-year-old Luke and 12-year-old Dan. ‘We were a bit Britpoppy,’ remembers Luke, ‘we loved Oasis. We went through an electronic phase too. We gigged around local festivals and fetes but we kinda stopped in our mid-teens – I was a self-conscious teenager!’

The Days started to come together after they all left school. Luke was all-grown-up – he was 18 – and rounded up his brother and Harry. The trio moved to London. There they combined university courses (Harry took a film course, and the Simpkins brothers studied music) with songwriting, demoing and gigging.

They were spotted by Fierce Panda, the small heatseeking label that discovered Coldplay and Keane. A showcase at Camden pub venue Dublin Castle in August 2006 attracted a pack of A&R types. The interest was intense. The Days, who were managing themselves at the time, were funded by one major label to record few professional demos. Another interested party suggested that they recruit a guitarist.

 

Back home in Devon, wandering round the Ugborough Village Fair, they found the very man: old school pal Tim. Their sound instantly became bigger, Luke’s piano-based songs blooming into ringing new dimensions. Within a matter of weeks The Days were signed to Atlantic. ‘They just had a great vibe,’ says Harry. ‘In their offices we met a whole team who we knew from the off would get right behind us. Some of the labels we met, the guys in the office didn’t even know each other. It’s important that we have the right people behind us,’ he adds.

But The Days were intent on not rushing anything. College courses were halted and dingy London flats abandoned – Devon was calling. ‘We felt it was important to stay close to our roots,’ says Luke. ‘I felt a real benefit from that in terms of my songwriting. Don’t get involved in scenes, don’t be influenced by scenes. Stay true to what you believe in.’

For Luke this meant, amongst others, the dextrous, lyrical songwriting of American piano maestro Ben Folds. ‘I love how he develops sound, and how he has this kind of glorious melancholy.’ And for The Days this meant the four-piece setting themselves up in a barn on remotest Dartmoor. No phone reception, no disturbances, no pressure.

They wrote and rehearsed on and off for months. Occasionally The Days would emerge from the barn to test their live mettle. They undertook big tours with The Fray and labelmate Paolo Nutini. And eventually, having amassed a brace of songs, they began recording.

First off they squirreled themselves away in the Irish countryside, in Grouse Lodge (home to recent albums by REM and Bloc Party), to work with producer John Cornfield (Razorlight, Muse). They undertook further recordings in London - an experience that also furnished Tim with a brush with a rock god: he shared a toilet with Mick Jagger. ‘It was quite intimidating in a way,’ says the drummer. ‘I couldn’t talk to him. I was just stood there thinking, that is one of the most famous cocks in the world.’

Unfortunately – or perhaps fortunately – bandmate Harry didn’t have his video camera with him. A keen filmmaker, he’s been compiling video-blogs of The Days’ progress so far, from barn to studio to big f-off rock venues. You can find these often hilarious clips on the band’s website.

‘We just wanted to get across to people what we we’re about, the fun side of us,’ explains Luke. ‘It’s nice for fans to see that bit extra, to get an insight into what goes in the life of a band, and of a song.’

The Days already have some form in this field: they starred, as themselves, in Bebo’s hugely-trafficked online drama Kate Modern. ‘We weren’t that comfortable with it at first,’ admits the frontman, ‘because we’re a live band and we don’t want to be seen as manufactured. But we slowly started to get into it. And it has been really helpful in getting our music heard and building a fanbase.’

That fanbase is set to get another huge boost this winter. The Days are specially invited guests on Scouting For Girls’ massive UK tour. ‘They’re huge shows,’ grins Luke, ‘thousands and thousands of people – but I think we’re ready now. Ready to play arenas? Sure.’

The Days are a brand new band with something like veterans’ experience. They’ve spent the best part of two years honing their songs, miles from anywhere, under their own steam. They’ve written songs, then chucked them away, then started all over again. And what’s left is irresistible. Debut single “No Ties” is shouty power-pop, a rollicking headbanger that belies its roots as something Luke wrote at home on piano. It sounds like what it’s about: ‘I wanted to get that sense of escapism you have on a Friday – forget your dayjob, here’s the weekend.’

“Carry Me” is more reflective, the plangent, confessional tale of a relationship going sour. “Confessions” is Luke’s ‘must try harder!’ rallying-cry, a song that roars along propelled by crunchy piano chords. And then there’s “Jane”, a boozy singalong about meeting girls on the road…

The Days are coming. They’ve worked hard to get here. And now they just want to get out and entertain, inspire, dance, rock-out and party.