These half-arsed amateurs clearly need a spell in the army to sharpen up their ideas...
Hats resolutely off to [a]British Sea Power[/a], the great white hopes of quirksome indie rockery, for writing lyrics about historic aviation exploits and colonic irrigation. But thumbs down for sounding like skanky old goth-punks on the title tune, which is little more than a ramshackle bollock-up masquerading as splenetic garage-rock. The extra tracks show a slight improvement, windswept clatters not unlike post-punk vampire croakers Psychedlic Furs trapped in an ambient wind tunnel with epic rumble-rockers, [a]Doves[/a]. Some promising touches then, but these half-arsed amateurs clearly need a spell in the army to sharpen up their ideas. Points are also deducted for living in Brighton, a hackneyed pop hangout and rubbish halfway-house version of London. With a crap beach.