Swollen And Tender
It's nice to see people sticking to their guns, even if they have devoted their lives to the pursuit of blandness....
He's not so keen on the troubled water, though. One listen to this so-chirpy-it-hurts second album is enough to have you reaching for a gin and aspirin cocktail. Anything, in fact, to get away from the acoustic niceness, close harmonies that suggest a prayer meeting rather than a life-long devotion to Beach Boys, rock-bottom Cast rejects ('Long Way Home'), and the sort of plain arsing around ('Mr Combination') that has you hankering after Ben Folds Five.
Because, for Umajets, the sun just never stops shining. It's a trite and incredibly simple world where, lyrically, the love of their life might leave them, or they notice homeless people living in boxes, yet they still simper and smile like they're auditioning for the part of something bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in a Disney movie.
This, then, is the happy-clappy alternative to angst. You will never moan about Radiohead again.
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