By The Pocket Gods
There are six tracks of home-made music-like stuff here. Track 6 is called "Danube" and it lasts for 17 minutes and 28 seconds.
Mark Lee is responsible. He calls it avant garde, which is pushing it. What I can hear is stilted, conventional and played without style or authority.
"Liverpool Street" has droopy guitar chords and whiny lyrics that wander off the note and make no tune worthy of the name. "Blessing" has a little more energy, but it shares the same minor key miserabalist tendency. "Lost" has a slightly different approach, but soon descends into maudlin dross. "Sunday Song" perks up a bit, but not much. It could almost qualify as "eccentric" - but it certainly isn't avant anything and it doesn't register even a blip on my special art-underground radar. It's actually embarrassing to have this stuff on the stereo when I know there are musicians in the building who might come in and tell me to shut up. "We need love" goes sluggishly into some guitar growl but reveals nothing more than Mark Lee's grindingly unattractive voice.
Which leaves enough time for Paula Radcliffe to run several miles while I sit for a second time through Danube's 17 minutes and 28 seconds. It's a poor song followed by a lot of plinking with a piano, a guitar and some other stuff that invents nothing and goes nowhere. It's like your most annoying friends messing about with your band's stuff long after rehearsal has finished. Horrible.