Neil Finn : One Nil
Evil from inadvisable start to merciful finish.
Take the weather with you. And close the door on your way out
There are Easter Island statues that have been around for less time than Neil Finn. A man best known for writing beardy REM shite about the weather, on this his second solo album he clambers back in his second-hand yellow submarine to delighted squeals from the [I]Observer[/I] massive.
If you’ve ever bought an
early-’90s album produced by
Jeff Lynne because it was 50 pence in Woolworths you know what to expect. Sickly sweet Traveling Wilburys production stinking of Grey Away, smothering the sort of tunes that could fill a tent at the Fleadh in under 15 seconds but instantly kill anyone under 40 on contact. It is unmitigated, honky-tonk-speckled, ‘Happiness Is A Warm Gun’-without-the-bollocks evil from inadvisable start to merciful finish. Red card, you c**t.