Philly punks Nothing are back from the brink with a new record that draws on some really, really bad times.
Your average Pachyderm may be a comical beast, but there's always a certain grace about the eyes....
It's clear enough that Elephant have something of an identity problem, as they mooch moodily from fragile, Joy Division-style portentousness ('Buttonhole'), to Numanoid nonchalance ('With A View To The East'), to feedback frenzy ('Serial Fucker'). The constant throughout these songs is the relentlessly grim, po-faced attitude. It's not utterly depressing in a 'Holy Bible' way though, simply because there's no personality here, no-one to empathise with, no real pain to share.
Prostrate at the cobwebbed altar of Ian Curtis, Robert Smith and every other humourless grouch who's ever haunted a recording studio, Elephant fail to find a new angle on such overdone nihilism. With no original insights into the human condition revealed beyond deadpan doom-mongering ("I need to get a grip 'cos the world outside is sick"), 'Heyday' remains uninvolving and pointless.
Less Dumbo, then, more a particularly dull episode of Babar.
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Once the thrill of the cast and visuals wears off, this follow-up to Tim Burton’s Alice In Wonderland is a drag
George Clooney and Julia Roberts bounce off each other like pros in this amusing take on fat cat greed
The hooks are plentiful and the energy’s palpable, but the Bottlemen still don’t have a ‘Wonderwall’