The ex-Smith proves his greatness on a spiky live album
Aah. Those were the days. Slap bang in the middle of Britpop, the mere sniff of a guitar had the kids pogoing madly...
Naturally they didn't. Even by the time they finished this second album early last year, times had changed but the band hadn't changed with them. Mad drummer Carl Bevan's tales of all-night partying and amyl nitrate weren't quite so hilarious and the double force of frontmen Mike Cole and Richard Parfitt couldn't muster the youthfully irreverent power of a couple of years earlier. And it's taken until now to find someone to release 'Joya Magica' and the band have already split up.
So in every way possible, this record doesn't matter. It's a harmless enough blast from the past, with a brief reminder of arguably better times stirred up in typical rousing single 'Alison's Room'. But if you really want to listen to 60ft Dolls again, hunt down their first album, 'The Big 3'. This is sadly only a pointless and very definite end to an unspectacular but enjoyable career. Everyone -; including the band -; have already moved on.
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