The Faint are five full-time idiots from Nebraska who, for reasons best known to themselves, sound like they’re living in West Yorkshire in 1980. Specifically, they sound like the pre-pop version of the Human League and Heaven 17, like we-are-weird goth disco of the very lowest order (the chorus, sung in a high-pitched and hysterical whine, runs - brace yourselves – "Like a cat’s shadow/like a father’s dream... agenda suicide´´).
Worse than Alien Sex Fiend or even Sheep On Drugs, we give you The Faint: a band playing tuneless songs on synthesisers about sex and suicide. The romo dream flickers once more.
Ted Kessler
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