Rip-off merchants fail to rise up the ranks
Cascading guitar riffs, gurny vocals, eternally obedient melodies and a tempo that veers from mid-paced to – ooh – a bit faster. All [a]Sergeant[/a] are is a second-rate [a]Dodgy[/a]; a laughable [a]La[/a]’s hiding behind a hail of beige bullets marked ‘dad-rock’ aimed at people for whom blind acceptance counts as a worthy trait. Their meat and potatoes skiffle is probably OK when you’ve had a couple of lines of Steve Cradock’s dandruff, but for anyone who likes a bit of verve it’s about as appealing as trimming your grandad’s nasal hair.
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