This new film about Oasis’s glory years is rousing, heart-rending and really f**king funny
the danger of standing on the shoulder of giants is that you have a long way further to fall.
With a gun to your head you might concede the instrumental 'Slower And Slow' bears a mild resemblance to early Arab Strap or that 'How Do You Feel' isn't really that awful, but the limp, sub-Funkadelic effluent that lies elsewhere is irredeemably poor.
Coyle's voice makes Ian Broudie's sound charismatic, Gallagher makes former Oasis drummer Tony McCarroll sound like Buddy Rich and rather than being a zonked-out rock record, 'Tailgunner' sounds like a bunch of D-grade stoners living out their Neil Young fantasies in some airless Moss Side shooting range.
"The devil's called cocaine/ Flying through my brain", sings Coyle on 'Crazy Horse' - it's about as near as he gets to a memorable line on the entire album.
Coyle's unique tragedy is that, thanks to his drummer's day job, a record that should have been quietly left to die in the bargain bins is now going to be pored over and ridiculed by a large number of people. As Coyle will be learning to his cost, the danger of standing on the shoulder of giants is that you have a long way further to fall.
Delving into the murk and noise of their past, the Boston veterans’ second post-reunion album is a superlative indie rock collection
Two kings of the indie dancefloor unite for a warm, timeless take on 20th century pop and rock
This unruly second album delivers a sucker punch to anyone who had the Kent duo down as a novelty act
Justin Vernon’s third Bon Iver album is a weird and wonderful thing