In which the shaggy-haired shamen of the nouveau-dunce apocalypse continue to build on their promise to re-jig rock's rule book by wearing tea cosies and sounding a bit like a bunch of chimps being lobotomised, slowly, by Led Zeppelin. Accordingly, the follow-up to the marvellous ‘Take The Long Road And Walk It’ is nothing short of a nu-baggy war-cry; squelchy brass section frotting maniacally with fractal-zoom guitars while Robert Harvey's epiglottis shimmies up and down some godforsaken 'music' scale like a pole dancer in Joe Bloggs jeans.
Churls may scoff at [a][/a]'s sense-defying lack of grace but, really, such a determined refusal to reign in excess should be encouraged.
Sarah Dempster
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