One of the most influential bands of the '80s play their best album, Doolittle, in full. What can go wrong? Plenty.
Looking and sounding like an angry baby, singer Frank Black struggles to hit the high notes and the band barely look at each other, let alone acknowledge the crowd, barring excitable bassist Kim Deal.
The energetic Debaser and Here Comes Your Man are still rock club staples 21 years later, but they're played in a bored manner that suggests they're more interested in the pay cheque than the fans.
Five years after reforming and with no sign of any new songs on the horizon, it's sad such a once-fiery band seem happy to be one step above a Butlins nostalgia turn. Doolittle? They aren't doing anything to improve their legacy.
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