Just in time for the twentieth anniversary of the Chernobyl disaster, comes this gruesome mutation of every post-Strokes dance-rock band of note. No balalaikas here, just the death knell of that frantic post-punk staccato high hat tickle Hot Hot Bloc Party sound that’s been beat to death since every drummer on the planet decided to play each song like “Everlong.” Beat like a dead horse. Like Frou-Frou after he fell in Anna Karenina. Doesn’t help that the guitarist is named after a brand of cat food (Whiskas). And when vocalist Tom hits the high notes, he treads dangerously close to Justin “Rehab” Hawkins of The Darkness.
Eleven tracks, each one a number (“Nine,” “Sixteen,” “Fifteen Parts 1 & 2”), none of it sequential, none of it essential. Give Me a Wall? Give me Tilly & the Wall.
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