Yes, there are synthesisers pushing guitar lines into stadium rock anthem territory, but its sounds like it’s held together with duct tape and loose copper wire, which is bloody brilliant.
Oh bollocks. Ever since the Killers and Razorlight reminded us of just how shit it was to be a teenager in the 1980’s I’ve tried my best to avoid anything that has “80s pop influenced rock record” written about it and this album is one of those. That’s not to say that all 80’s music is shit, it isn’t, but for every Echo and the Bunnymen there was a Haircut 100 and Haircut 100 always got more radio play, as did Duran Duran.
Needless to say, I didn’t fancy listening to another New Romantic Wave type, synth led album of pompous, shallow stadium rock, but here’s the thing, somewhere near the end of track two this lot won me over, which is pretty good going for me. For starters, they have a female singer who sounds a little bit like that lass from Texas, which is nice as she can actually sing. Secondly, and here’s the main thing, it’s nowhere near as polished as that shit The Killers are peddling. Yes, there are synthesisers pushing guitar lines into stadium rock anthem territory, but its sounds like it’s held together with duct tape and loose copper wire, which is bloody brilliant. Their sound is big, loud and completely over the top, but there’s just enough of the WD-40 leaking out to stop you from wanting to vomit.
I’ll be honest, I think this is a great little album, one that I’ll be dancing round the living room to when I’m trying to avoid having to do any work. I suggest you give it a chance, because if you buy this then we may well be able to get rid of Johnny White Trousers and Brandon Pathetic Facial Hair and company for good.