Over-produced Aussie rock
Four albums on and the bafflingly popular Australian three piece find themselves at a crossroads. Do they soldier on with the grunge lite formula that has made them the wealthy young men they are today? Or do they venture boldly into exciting new musical landscapes? Bizarrely, they’ve set their sights on being the new Bryan Adams. Lord help us.
It goes without saying that for nearly 60 minutes Silverchair turn out an immaculately produced MOR product that replaces the irritating adolescent thrash of before with slick and inoffensive orchestral arrangements, like the grossly pretentious and overblown ‘Tuna in the Brine’. They think they’re making grand and mature artistic statements, but it just sounds like they’re trying to impress their parents. Utter wank then, but in a different way to before.