Not for the first time, the emperor appears to be naked. Yes, [a]Howie B[/a] has once again believed his own hype and produced an album of self-indulgent inconsequence....More on
It's a shame to report, then, that 'Snatch' revisits the more ponderous episodes of Howie's last album, 1997's 'Turn The Dark Off', but with an emphasis on the ponderous. Gone, sadly, is any inclination to seduce dancefloors, replaced instead by a curious, and often fruitless, desire to explore the decidedly less thrilling variations on the percussive interlude, as 'Galway' and 'Sniffer Dog' are at pains to address.
What transpires is a record that sounds like Barry Adamson after unsuccessful brain surgery: imaginary soundtracks devoid - save for the occasional svelte Air-ism on 'To Kiss You' and 'Maniac Melody' - of imagination and narrative. A singular idea gradually, forcibly stretched until its currency, finally, is ruined.
Still credible only by association, Howie B has yet to do himself justice.
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