Spector are pretty dire, so let’s imagine them with a really shit singer. No, still not good. How about replacing the Springsteen attitude with tinny synths and a chord progression that’s straight out of the Magic FM playlist? Right, what if they give it a bit of build-up, y’know? Interpol-style? Yeah, drum fills and some loud-quiet dynamic. Still no good. Oh and it’s over. Two and half minutes of anodyne bullshit precision tweaked to bring Zane Lowe to orgasm in as little time as possible. The biggest problem here is how faceless the whole affair is. The lyrics are non-committal clichés and the singers vocal range is so unpredictable that it’s impossible to tell what he’s supposed to be emoting. Theme Park’s absence from any tipped-for-2012 might be the only reassurance that this brand of danceable shite is finally entering its death throes.
Ned Powley
Ned Powley
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