…is like watching an art-house movie with Jennifer Anniston in it.
It’s like watching an art-house movie that’s all art and no house.
It’s like 5/8ths of the Film Festival program.
It’s like listening to a bland, un-funky, soulless version of Talking Heads (and I mean Talking Heads circa-86, not at their 1980 peak).
It’s for people who watch programs on the National Geographic channel and The Discovery Channel and then go to work the next day to discuss the incredible documentary they watched.
It’s like reading a Bret Easton Ellis novel written after American Psycho.
It’s like when you meet a friend of a friend and you know, instantly, that you are not really going to get along – and yet you are going to bump in to each other often. And your mutual friend, sensing the awkwardness, adds to it by always beginning every meeting between you with “have you two met…?” And you both always say, “erm, I think so…yeah, at some stage…maybe…”
It’s the musical equivalent of a vest.
It’s like going to see the emperor in his new clothes and there he is naked, glistening with mad sweat, cackling in a demented tone, “don’t you just love my outfit? It’s super isn’t it? I had it designed by The Arcade Fire!