Webb Brothers : I Can't Believe You're Gone
And yes, it smacks heavily of Randy Newman driving a tank though a piano graveyard.
It really is refreshing, in a time when every other rock chancer is scrabbling about for the last scrap of the December 1984 Vogue on which to style themselves or 'emoting' their guts up all over some hoary old rubbish that sounds like Neil Young rupturing a moose, to review a single that really doesn't give a shit what you think about it. Yes, 'I Can't Believe You're Gone' is about a girl. Yes, she has gone. Yes, they can't believe it. And yes, it smacks heavily of Randy Newman driving a tank though a piano graveyard. So chuffing what? The mighty Webbs deliver this rag-bag of Ben Folds Five-ian folly with such carefree exuberance and wanton flapping of fringe that it's an intoxicating, stupid and plain brilliant thrill from opening chug to closing ker-plonk. So stick that in your "I saw the crescent" and smoke it, Starsailor.
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