Are You Receiving?
Sometimes, all the will in the world isn't enough...
Sometimes, all the will in the world isn't enough. You can have the right haircut, the right contacts and the right state of mind, but it still doesn't mean you'll get what you want.
If it did, Subcircus (lovely hair, supported Suede and Feeder) would currently be touring the world's stadiums while their fans wrote love letters in blood to singer PB Jnr's razor-sharp cheekbones. Be grateful for small mercies, then. Because - despite what they think - Subcircus don't deserve any of that. True, nearly every song here attempts to pack in Suede's cinematic leanings, Placebo's dark seediness and the angry pop catchiness of a dozen eyelinered men in black who all yearn to be obsessed over. But, unwittingly, Subcircus are those bands' vaguely ridiculous cartoon shadow.
First, there's the irritating, pretentious titles - 'My Pet Poltergeist', 'Boys Are Naturally Cruel', 'Filthy Fucker' (I mean, please). And then there's PB Jnr himself. Maybe if he didn't sound so utterly self-satisfied and plain whiny on this second album, you could consider Subcircus a serious contender. Instead, it's all you can do to not laugh at his distressed, exaggerated screeching.
Obviously fate has remarkably good taste.
If it did, Subcircus (lovely hair, supported Suede and Feeder) would currently be touring the world's stadiums while their fans wrote love letters in blood to singer PB Jnr's razor-sharp cheekbones. Be grateful for small mercies, then. Because - despite what they think - Subcircus don't deserve any of that. True, nearly every song here attempts to pack in Suede's cinematic leanings, Placebo's dark seediness and the angry pop catchiness of a dozen eyelinered men in black who all yearn to be obsessed over. But, unwittingly, Subcircus are those bands' vaguely ridiculous cartoon shadow. First, there's the irritating, pretentious titles - 'My Pet Poltergeist', 'Boys Are Naturally Cruel', 'Filthy Fucker' (I mean, please). And then there's PB Jnr himself. Maybe if he didn't sound so utterly self-satisfied and plain whiny on this second album, you could consider Subcircus a serious contender. Instead, it's all you can do to not laugh at his distressed, exaggerated screeching.
Obviously fate has remarkably good taste.
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