Reverend's gospel hits a very flat note
Take two of the most significant British acts of the past 20 years -- Oasis and Primal Scream -- and put them though a yet-to-be-invented machine that sucks all that's good from them, leaving only a hollow husk in its place, and you're somewhere close to grasping the unadulterated awfulness of this third album from Sheffield chancers Reverend and The Makers.
It shouldn't be such a surprise that Jon McClure and friends have delivered such a dud when one considers the desperate ordinariness of their beery terrace tunes to date, but @Reverend_Makers is just jaw-droppingly bad.
It's an album so bereft of ideas and anything even resembling a smartly composed song that you have to question why it's seen the light of day.
In his wisdom, McClure has delivered a batch of songs that fuse identikit guitar indie with the sort of Eurotrash music you might hear on a ferry in the Balkans.
It's a ghastly synthesis and one rendered egregious by the singer's ham-fisted lyrics, which strive for profundity but come up short every time.
Catchy but daft opening track Bassline hints at what might have been (in some parallel universe), but for the remainder of this mercifully short album you may be left wondering when was the last time you heard anything so inane.
KEY TRACK Bassline
Day & Night