Zapped By A Million Volts

What�s The Miles Per Gallon, Alan?

Someone�s been listening to a little too much Ian Dury & The Blockheads, I think. True, this single has an infectious urgency about it that still survives despite the unwieldy title, but unless we�re turning the clock back twenty years it�s hard to see �What�s The Miles Per Gallon, Alan?� succeeding in the modern world. Besides, they really can�t fit that title into the chorus, and the whole effort feels needlessly rushed and cramped for style. If you�re missing Ian Dury you�ll probably love it, though.

Dan Coxon

Little Barrie

Pin That Badge

Little Barrie return (did anyone notice they’d been away?) with an unashamedly retro EP that claims to have �funk� and �soul� but in reality has as much bite as a toothless chihuahua. This sounds like it took about five minutes to write, and it takes about five seconds to forget it completely. The B-side, ‘Green-Eyed Fool’ takes a swipe at people who �haven’t had the balls to do it for themselves�, which seems a little rich, coming from Morrissey’s jobbing guitarist.

Kate Connolly

The Rapture

W.A.Y.U.H People Don�t Dance No More

I went to review this single then realised I�d put Talking Heads Remain in the Light on instead. Never mind they�re just the same so I�ll get away with it. Spiky, jerky guitar, clanging cowbells, electronic blips and beeps, rhythmic beats and squealing vocals. This is great if not at all original and more than a nod to the aforementioned art school legends. Complete with a Tom Tom Club ending as well…cheeky boys. �People don�t dance no more/They just stand like this/They cross their arms and stare you down/They drink moan and piss.�

Alan Souter

Edward Molby


Some bands end up with their vocalist because he owns a car and not because he has an especially nice voice. I’m assuming Edward Molby are such an act. A quartet from somewhere in Yorkshire who, hilariously I can assure you, feature no-one of the name Edward Molby play guitar heavy pop fronted by a singer who whines when the music is meant to be melodic and has possibly the most pathetic scream I’ve ever heard when things get ‘heavy’. I couldn’t stand to listen beyond the entirely rubbish opening track so have no idea if things improve.

Alex Botten

The Automatic


The Automatic enter 2007 with an albatross around their necks, their phenomenally successful single �Monster� and a set-trashing Breakfast TV appearance that went on YouTube almost immediately. This re-issue is not perhaps as catchy as Monster, unlikely to change the world, but it�s fun. And that�ll do for now. What is not explained is who Raoul is�

Ed Jupp

Sean Lennon

Dead Meat

Lennon Jnr could be forgiven for taking the fast track route to fame. After all, what�s the point of trying to emulate your father�s career when he has secured his place as one the greatest of all time? Surely a lost cause?

Not for this single-minded gentleman. Whilst there are elements of dad�s work spliced into this single acutely, individuality is almost certainly the defining word for this, and indeed all, of Sean Lennon�s work. Rather than be cast under a shadow of a parent�s previous success, �Dead Meat� sounds fresh, unique, and indicative of his tribulations to find perfection in the eight-year sabbatical since his last effort. Emulation this ain�t; this stands on its own two feet as a beautifully arranged, gloriously implicit record. He may be as much the spokesperson for the underground as his father was for the mainstream. Not really what you would expect from a Lennon record, and, probably, all the better for it.

Paul MacDonald


Walking Machine

The Swedish have the inimitable knack for delivering a perfect piece of pop when it�s needed most. Even in this period of nationwide, post-festive season lethargy; Revl9n (pronounced as �Revlon Nine�) manage to make a song about a Walking Machine seem appealing. It makes absolutely no sense whatsoever, but its sultry vocals and sugary synths make a bouncy, electro noise that could be a flatpack remedy to a Data Panik shaped hole in the world, if there is such a thing. Altogether it�s inoffensive and pretty pop.

Laura Doherty

George Dyer

Five Out Of Five

Just who is George Dyer? Tap his name into Wikipedia and you�ll come up with an 18th century English classicist. Google him and you�ll find a world-renowned tenor and, er, Francis Bacon�s gay lover. Somehow I doubt that either were involved with this lo-fi (read: cheaply produced) five-track release. Working his/their way through a sackful of plod-rock tunes and horribly nasal vocals, he/they have made it all the worse by choosing such an arrogant title for what must surely be a debut release. Five out of five? Not quite�

Dan Coxon

Joe Matson


Trip-hop has always been a mystifying genre. Too banal to be either trippy or hoppy, its protagonists sailed lethargically through the scene before shipping off to new shores once they realised no-one actually cared. So, with this in mind, the proposition of self-confessed trip-hopper Joe Matson�s new single fails to fill the heart with hope. And from the first silky smooth down-tempo beat its clear �DTA� won�t breathe a fresh lease of life into a dying scene. Inoffensively bland, it�s a late night smoking track for those unable to solve anything more taxing than what makes the best roach material. Trip-hop: seriously, who needs it?

Billy Hamilton