Great, more half-cocked nu-punk, all bluster and no balls and more concerned with the image than making a statement. I’m not talking about the band’s parodic photos in army fatigues with a punk twist as they brandish their instruments like weapons as they stand and kneel in a desert that may or may not be a metaphor for the musical desert they find themselves in, but the pisspoor pseudo-militaristic artwork, complete with bomb motifs and all the rest.
Margate differentiate themselves from the contemporary punk production line by adding a dash of old-fashioned rock ‘n’ roll to the mix, but then, The Computers did it first, and a damn sight better. The six tracks on this EP lack any real fire, and the cover of ‘Eleanor Rigby’ is so predictable it barely warrants mention.
The rock ‘n roll reserve has, it seems, run dry.
Margate Online
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