King of Cards
Tom McRae isn’t chronically dull enough to garner mainstream success in the turgid style of Blunt, Powter and Rice. Neither does this singer-songwriter (just hearing that phrase instantly makes you hawk up a bit of sick, doesn’t it?) have a smudge of the talent or ideas of the likes of Fionn Regan, Martin Grech or Bright Eyes. So, on fourth album ‘King Of Cards’, he flounders in a kind of beige middle ground, selling less than Blunt but still being about as attractive to the trendy set as a Debenhams Blue Cross sale. The songs are tuneless and yawnsome, the supposedly grandiose production as blustery as a slight crosswind, and his
voice sounds like Jesse Malin after a crystal-meth hit. Joker.