The Smiths, without the misery. But with extra jangle, extra stomp, extra staggering mania, the grumpycat sulk turned to a Joker grin, replacing existentialism with garden-variety cynicism, still bursting tuneful dissatisfaction. So you don't get that spike into your darkest moments that leaves you clinging to The Queen is Dead for dear life. But this's probably a better everyday dose of catchy, unbearably British 80's rock.
And what a delightfully self-aggrandizing // self-effacing title, embracing their role a slight calling them the 4th best band from Hull. Well played 3.5/5
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