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The Motorpool - X-Ray Eyes (Battenburg Records)

Hmmm…smooothe. Vocals that swagger in a manner reminiscent of Dame David Bowie, a gleaming production, warmly wiggling guitars, there’s something sort of luxuriant about this record, like having a big contented stretch and yawn. Softly aching chords twangle and the waft of Suede’s less er, histrionic moments perfumes the air. Outside, the trees thrash madly in a gale and the canal boils nastily. Inside, I sit on the furry rug feeling cocooned by the rumbly glow emanating from The Motorpool. Oh, oh I know what this reminds me of, remember Subcircus? This is like their wallow-rock shorn of the sleaze and eyeliner and Marion fans.

Excitingly, The Motorpool have a song apparently comparing a dodgy relationship with food poisoning entitled, yes, ‘Bad Chicken’. Wow, it’s kind of like the anti ‘I feel like chicken tonite’. ‘So much hate on a plate for me’ it goes. I envisage a stadium of fans solemnly waving those yellow rubber chickens in the air instead of lighters. Cool. More songs drift by…the sound is very snuggle on the settee on a Sunday afternoon, but ultimately it’s a bit, um, grown-up. At least for a site run by a cartoon cat.

RRRG: Swollen subterranean harmony

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