Goddamn. I’m sorry, but I find this genuinely hard to listen to all the way through. There’s a lot going on and it sure is different, but such factors don’t necessarily mean what’s happening is any kind of good thing. Jangly post-punk featuring, on and off, the creaking of a cello, a twittering clarinet, and on one song, a groaning accordion, all coupled with wordy lyrics detailing our modern malaise. Unfortunately I really can’t stand either the theatrical vocal affectations or the unnecessary arsing about that combine to make this CD sound like Sleater Kinney if they were drunk and playing diabolical circus music. Maybe there’s merit to be found, but damned if I’ve got the iron constitution to dig it out – the longer this plays the more I feel the living piss being strangled from my bladder in sheer annoyance. Then, like finding a Fabergé egg in a sack of shit, one song doesn’t make me want to stab myself to death. This is called ‘Out Of Focus’, which dispenses with goofy cartoon vocals and fairground frivolity, somehow managing to sound like it could have tumbled from Tsunami’s worn-out pockets. That, I can stand. Unfortunately it’s just a blip on the radar. Obviously the rest of the band were off having a cup of tea while one lone member tinkered away without them, because soon enough they’re back in full force bashing out ‘Pigs In Mud’ which is far beyond the realms of annoying and about as much as I can stand from the band that is called Gertrude.
