Hot Gossip – You Look Faster When You Are Young

The review is sort of the written equivalent of punching this girl in the face for three hours.

I didn’t think it could be done, but my latest review probably outdoes my Scream review in terms of sheer vitriol. Hot Gossip, you drove me to it.

I feel a bit guilty for doing this review. Mostly because it’s picking on a very easy target, and also because I listened to it in the same week I heard two genuinely brilliant new albums it couldn’t possibly hope to live up to (The Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Booker T, serfs!). So, in my delusion-filled head, it’s a bit like I’m the schoolyard bully, repeatedly punching the gaunt, nerdy kid in the stomach, while two of my cronies hold him down by the arms – it makes me feel like what I’m doing is somehow indecent, wrong, or just plain mean. Or all of the above.

On the other hand, I feel absolutely justified in delivering every last blow to its defenceless abdomen, because You Look Faster… is unremittingly rubbish, packed to its insufferable brim with irredeemably generic, spiky-bouncy-poxy guitar lines, and ostensibly perky vocals that slowly reveal themselves to be utterly lifeless. In fact, the entire record is full of that kind of blunted energy, like they wanted to seem vigorous and fun, but they’re all secretly dead on the inside, and have been brought back to life by some sort of awful, pointless sorcery. Unfortunately, the illusion of life quickly falls away before your very eyes, like a magician’s assistant gleefully celebrating how we all thought she’d actually been sawn in half, only for her torso to collapse to the ground, cleanly cleft from her pelvis. And by the time the album draws to a close, you’ll be wishing Hot Gossip would just retreat to whatever sarcophogus they’ve been awoken from, and go back to eternally resting or the afterlife or whatever.

It doesn’t get any nicer from there, either.

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