Sunday 4 December 2011

Johnny Foreigner

The Pixie made the observation that this is exactly the kind of jangly guitar alt-pop that I hate.

She is of course quite correct. But my favourite band changes on a more-or-less weekly basis; I am nothing if not contrary.

My music periodical of choice has been championing these Brummie scamps for years; and when their latest record received a typically gushing review, and the song featured on the cover CD was typically outstanding and addictive and demanding of repeated spins, I found myself with no answer to the question "why haven't you bought any of this brilliant stuff yet, you miserable git?" And maybe it is simply a testament to the infectious quality of their too-much-sweets-and-sugary-drinks shambolic indie rock that even a cynical old wretch like me can't help smiling and joining in with all the doo-doo-doo-doo-dee-doo's.




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