If The Open are going to be providing the soundtrack for romantic reconciliations and football clip shows, it's fair to say that this is going to be doing the exact opposite - this is vengeful, stewing-in-your-own-juices rock for the recently jilted, and if it weren't so darned sunny out it would be making off with this week's big prize. If you can imagine Ray Davies at his most misanthropic, armed with all the big-ass amplifiers and fuzz pedals that modern times have brought us, then he might come up with something this gnarled, biting and spiteful.
The kind of record which, if it was written about you, you'd take out a restraining order to keep off your stereo. "Oh baby, won't you cry?" hollers Martin Trimble. If she has any sense, she'll blub buckets, then move to another country.
Pete Cashmore
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