So here we are at the start of something. A band hatched in May 1996 who, already, are shaping up as the most thrilling prospects for rock'n' roll in '97.

Up front, one tough fucker of a singer, recently plucked from North Scottish obscurity, who recalls greats like Lennon, Rod Stewart, Steve Marriot and Alex Chilton in The Box Tops, At the helm, Andy Bell, one of the decades most gifted songwriters, rehabilitated, rejuvenated, mad for it again. A band joined by fate, pumped with spiritual charge, psyched to the point of psychosis.

Like it or lump it, they're going to happen. Just around the corner, there's an Oasis.; at the Water Rats, a Black Grape at the Hanover Grand. Soon after, a Roses at Blackpool Empress Ballroom, a Scream at the Palais, Then what? Spike Island, Knebworth, Ursa Minor. The sky's the limit. "Whatever happens". says Bell with total assurance, "I'm up for it. I feel like I've been having an apprenticeship for six years. Now I'm going to give it everything I've got. I really just want to do it.",

Rewind to late January 1996, Andy Bell staggers onstage to a half-full Borderline. Ride's swansong album 'Tarantula' has just come out to a confused public - why had they split up when they'd just made their best record? Andy, much the worse for 'flu and the bad vibes of his band's demise, wears shades throughout his brief, croaky set.

He looks a broken man (he plays a rickety cover of 'Schizophrenia' by Sonic Youth), but somewhere in the back of his mind, he already has 15 new songs ready for...... something. But he can hardly even think about what it might be. Rewind back another 14 years or so, to the harsh countryside between Perth and Dundee. At the tender age of 12, following his father's disappearance,

Alex Lowe is forced to leave school and starts work as a potato picker to help his mother make ends meet. Alex has already been boxing for a couple of years, and now starts taking on amateur fights, "just for the 30 quid backhander- from the guys with the big cigars." At 15, he's sent back to school for nine days to avoid being sent to Borstal, and round about then, discovers the guitar.

Over the next ten years or so, he plays in local pub bands doing covers, and writes his own tunes on a country-rock tip. His last band, The Frasers, released a DIY single in 1990 called 'Selfish' which sold a healthy 3,000 copies, but none of the band were prepared to commit to touring and making it - apart from Alex.

So when his girlfriend tells him she's sent off his demo in response to an ad in the music papers, he wasn't that hopeful - he'd done all that before.

But from the 200 tapes sent in, Andy Bell thought Alex's stood out a mile from the rest, and invited the Scot down to Oxford for an audition on 8th May '96. Since February, Andy had been working with an 18-year-old Oxford drummer called Gareth Farmer, a fervent Ride fan who'd contacted the band's old office when he'd heard about the split. He made Andy tapes of the dance stuff he was listening to (Chemicals, Prodge, etc) and the two of the started tinkering around with drum loops. Forget Ride, already they were heading for an early Stone Roses stylee.

As for a bassist, Andy had enlisted a mate of his from London for an audition, but due to a cracking hangover on the day, the mate had to refer him to someone else. Enter Will Pepper. "Will turned up," Andy recalls, with a smile, "and he looked like he'd walked in off the set of Mean Streets . I just thought, this cat is switched on. He got his bass out, and that was on old 60s Gibson that Chris Robinson out of the Black Crowes had given him when he'd produced Will's last band, Thee Hypnotics. I thought, 'Like, this guy is really cool.'"

A few singers were tried out, but it was Alex who shone through. Says Andy, "He started singing 'Maggie Mae', and I'm like, 'Right, you're in the band!' We had a couple more people to audition, so I told Alex to go off and get a MacDonalds, and then come back in two or three hours. I hurried up everyone else, got rid of them, and then when Alex came back, we played for about four hours." The line-up complete, Alex moved down to Oxford with his girlfriend, and after a summer of rehearsals and good vibes, they went to The Chapel In Lincoln to record their debut album with Steve Harris, of Kula Shaker's 'K' fame.

The results are raw, emotional and driven. Despite the crushing sense of loss on 'Let Go Of The Dream', the album explodes with confidence in its own excellence. From the dazed Beatie-y melancholia of 'Monday Afternoon' through the Replacements-esque adrenalin thrash of 'Don't Look Away' to the effortless majesty of 'Step Into My World', you're looking at a record that will make brisk work of its opposition. Everyone who's heard it is buzzing about Hurricane.

One such is Creation boss, Alan McGee: "Liam Gallagher, Bobby Gillespie and Andy Bell - they are the consummate rock'n'rollers," he states. "Now Alex is gonna grow into it. He's a quiet boy, but if you tangle with him, basically you'll come out second. He really does fucking want it. I'd be shocked if they're not superstars by the end of the year."

"It's madness," agrees Andy. "The four of us and our producer Steve Harris have had this mad psyched-up vibe about the band since we started playing and recording. It's a gut feeling. Now it's spread to Creation and it's just a matter of time before it spreads to everyone else."

"We'll be very, very big," Alex states coolly. "I've waited too fucking long for us not to be. If this fucking band fucks up..." his eyes roll up to the ceiling, and then fix back with a steady gaze. "I won't let it fuck up, that's the thing. I won't let it fuck up. It won't be me who lets everybody down. - it's gonna be fucking massive. This band is awesome, powerful, focussed. We're gonna be very large."

Here ends the Hurricane warning....