Impossibly romantic, keeling over, hand to forehead at sunset, The Pains are The Smiths gone French, swelling over with M83 exaltation and Moon Safari wonder, all 80's gone double halcyon. It's beautiful, bursting, twee and frail, teenage heart driving off into the night.
Too one-dimensional to hold up, lacking the drive of the best songs off their debut (shoutout Young Adult Friction!), watering itself down to nothingness by the end - but it'll sweep you off your feet for one sweet swoon 3/5
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment