My musical love affairs do have an almost inevitable point where the adoration fades, the once delightful becomes infuriating, and my interests wanes.
This release from the Fauves was the last time I footed the bill for a romantic dinner with said four-piece. No more would we gaze longingly at each through the candle light (I think the whole Earth Hour thing last night has curdled my brain).
Perhaps the decline in adoration was inevitable, but I blame this album. It starts like another great night with the lads. Insert Your Life is another pearl, either a specific dig at astrology or a broader treatise on the challenge for artists attempting to speak to the broad human experience.
The encounter quickly becomes dull, repetitive and desperate however. Old clichés and lazy riffs are trotted out. Yo-Yo Craze sees the lads getting embarrassing in their attempts to stay fresh for the kiddies.
I can see some glimmers of hope here. The dirty talk and reminiscing for simpler times on Nairobi Nights grabbed my attention, as did the similarly backward-looking LA ’86.
Alas, it’s all too little too late for us. To quote the band (and G.Costanza) it’s not you it’s me…
File under: I’m inching away