Up All Night
Eeek! It’s the sound of indistinct indie warblings from rock’s most inconsequential accountants. If the sound of The Pigeon Detectives made us feel as if we were wading through a pile of glistening CDs spelling out the word ‘mediocrity’, this makes us feel as if we’ve got trench foot and have to amputate. “What’s the point? What’s the point? What’s the point?” the dude in the suit sings over a schmindie descending chord progression. It is at this moment we feel compelled to throw our PC on the floor in protest: what indeed is the bleeding point? PE
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