An amalgamation of dull, nonchalant and downright dreary sounds
History is littered with solipsistic, bourgeois, theatrical bohemians who can afford to diarise every tedious thought they have. Add D3 to that slagheap. Effortlessly middle of class, brow and road, they churn out student revue cabaret with deodorised Americana trappings and pretensions to Eastern European folk.
Wheedling vocalist Nona Marie Invie’s MO is to sing a line of blistering inanity and then to repeat it until it becomes an affront to your intelligence. And then, just as you’re starting to see light at the end of the tunnel, you realise that there’s another five-track EP by these self-absorbed, boring, aesthetically bankrupt bellends still to go. Double bummer.