A deliberately frothy take on an under-documented moment in US politics
London E1 Spitz Club
[a]Lush[/a] comparisons are inevitable...
Lush comparisons are inevitable, and not unjustified. Just as Miki Berenyi, with her pink bobbed hair, was Lush, it's clear within seconds that the heart of Sing Sing belongs not to Emma, but to vocalist Lisa O'Neill. She's the one who bends the spotlight in her favour, while Anderson seems content lurking in the shadows. It's Lisa too, that brings the musical edge to Sing Sing, shifting them away from indie dirge and towards an electronic equilibrium more reminiscent of Cocteau Twins or Saint Etienne.
New single 'I'll Be' manages to piece together all the ingredients to become the soundtrack to teenage summers. "Tell me something no-one else has told me", swoons O'Neill over a lazy piano loop. It's the closest they get to anthemic.
But from then on, Sing Sing embark on a downward spiral. It's unclear why - it's not a lack of effort - but as track after track drifts by, the overriding feeling changes from the optimism of welcoming old friends, to frustration that they haven't really changed much at all.
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