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Spearmint : It won't be long now

This is whiny indie bollocks but it's top drawer, gold-plated, massively endowed whiny indie bollocks. Do we sniff real talent, here?

Ooh, there's some clever stuff going on here in the guitar-dropout department. This is whiny indie bollocks but it's top drawer, gold-plated, massively endowed whiny indie bollocks. Do we sniff real talent, here? Yes, if Spearmint tried to be just a little bit more like The Beautiful South and a hell of a lot less like the billions of utterly shit, weak and ineffectual limp-wristed indie-twat scum bands out there, then they could be HUGE! They could sell records to girls and working-class smellos and other people who aren't students. And then we could hate them! The path forks before ye, oh Spearmint, and it forks three ways. One way leads to the punky theme park known as Prolapseland. The next to the Land Of The Faeries ruled by the Poodle Kings Belle & Sebastian. But the third way leads to SUCCESS! GLAMOUR! FREE SEX! AND DRUGS! AND TONS OF MONEY! WAH-HEY!





Hmmm. A difficult choice, to

be sure.



Steven Wells

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