8/10 Brian Staff review, 07 April 2011
Bloody hell. This begins with Vic Goddard, ex-Subway Sect honcho & a true English gent if ever I've heard one. His ditty about Blackpool is quite wonderful and warms the cockles it does. His reedy, wavering Lahndan tones are always a comfort. I've heard of a few of the other acts and they all bring something reassuringly old-skool & traditional to the table. Bands in my youth used to sound like this - strummy, jangly, naive, equipped with a xylophone & a tatty notebook of half-obscured lovelorn lyrics. I really don't feel it's necessary to begin picking at the stitching of this well-rounded & quite charming collection. Rest assured there's some real twee stars such as Leeds' very own Manhattan Love Superslides (sic), Horowitz, Pocketbooks, Cocoanut Groove & Parallelograms. The songs are all pretty strong, sincere & catchy plus many are recorded in that rattly, cheap way that real indie like what yr Ma used to make should be. Because I dislike the majority of modern, technically savvy "indie" bands (ie everything Artrocker blathers about) and the meat & potatoes tedium of the anthemic terrace lot I find myself wanting to ram fistloads of this CD into the cosmos to right the wrongs and dilute the crimes committed by idiots with guitars & no souls. Buy this to properly support the underground & FUCK preening idiot fakers such as The Vaccines. Yeah. FUCK them, hard.
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