Re-Mit isn’t a breakthrough by anyone’s standards, but it’s something. It’s another book in the bible of The Fall.
There’s not much room for ‘fun’. No room for pom poms and a nihilistic refrain chanted ad nauseum like it’s a game. It’s straight down the line fucked upness, which is appropriate given the album is wedded so tightly to a heart that’s been badly burned.
Couldn’t Be Better is so disinterested in any reality I’ve ever experienced that it’s impossible to connect.
Is it irresponsible to write an album review without having heard a single note from said album? Maybe. It would probably depend on the album.
Can belong to the iconoclasts, the cynics, the lovers, the thinkers and the visionaries with hungry ears and a low threshold for boredom.
I would call it pop-punk, but then you’ll think of Green Day or some shit like that.
It is an equally rewarding and frustrating experience
Smells like spilt bourbon, guitar grease and peanuts.
I like that I can delete this from my iTunes and not miss it later.
Music to make out to, I suppose. A collegiate version of Norah Jones.