This lot, on the other hand, should have stayed in 1982. I mean, it's great to have pop stars of Boy George's calibre around, but were the very-good-actually dance records he was making in the early-'90s just another way of paying the bills? Admittedly, I'd probably be prepared to listen to a whole album by the Barenaked Ladies for the amount of money he's getting for reforming Culture Club, but is a new release really necessary?
Sung with all the conviction of a Tory MP denying sleaze allegations, this limp lettuce of a reggae tune is positively apologetic in the way it coasts along on autopilot. But there's no excuses. Shameful shite.
Johnny Cigarettes
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