The kind of effects-drenched sensitive folk drivel that gets mistaken for modern psychedelia by fin-haired graphic designer c***s

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Orange Can : Mornin' Son

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Orange Can : Mornin’ Son

Back in action after a year-long recording break, during which they evidently spent several hours each day bashing themselves around the head with frying pans, south London’s Orange Can might be surprised to learn that a) this is the 21st century, and b) there’s a war going on. The kind of effects-drenched sensitive folk drivel that gets mistaken for modern psychedelia by fin-haired graphic designer c***s, the release of ‘Mornin’ Son’ upon an unsuspecting and undeserving public is a cruel trick indeed.

Piers Martin