She knows a shortcut through the Turkish district…

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[5.00]

Martin Skidmore: Obviously we serious critics would never dreaming of judging a book by its cover, but I knew I’d hate this lot from the band name. I was right. This is twee, feeble, semi-competent indie pop. Elizabeth Morris isn’t a terrible singer, and there is a bit of a tune, so ‘hate’ is a bit strong, but I’d be pleased to never hear them again.
[2]

Zach Lyon: It would be a [10], but they use the word “cancer,” and you’re not supposed to do that in a song. I like this alright, she has a lovely voice.
[6]

Alfred Soto: She’s only partly identified the problem — bands need drummers more than hearts. And mandolins. And “haunting” harmonies.
[4]

John Seroff: From stem to stern, this tweefest is all cuddle and no claw; the lead singer’s exaggerated accent, the overly mannered phrasing, the unrhymed lyrics, the remedial percussion and the barely there hook all aim at charming but impress more as uncommitted. Taking something as slight as “My Heart Is a Drummer” to task for insubstantiality feels a bit unfair, but shouldn’t vapor should be able to fog up your glasses a bit?
[4]

Iain Mew: The only problem here is that the jangle is so deliciously crisp and the Smithsisms so perfectly observed (the way the drums shift up in gear behind “call me on the telephone”!) that it’s difficult to get beyond admiring the care that’s gone into the recognisable sound and actually appreciate it as a new song in its own right.
[6]

Doug Robertson: Did no-one at any stage think to point out that maybe, just maybe, they’d been listening to a bit too much Cyndi Lauper before sitting down to write this song? This isn’t just a passing resemblance or a knowing nod; the melody line is so blatantly based on “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” that a court case seems inevitable. Still, if you’re going to steal from people then there are worse targets, and as knock offs go, it’s decent enough. It is still a knock off though, and I’d rather have something a bit more original. That’s all I wa-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ant.
[5]

David Moore: There’s a nice story in here that isn’t helped by clumsy production: the lead singer kind of free-associates a weak melody to good prose while the band does an early Vampire Weekend demo of “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” (they mention Graceland in a verse, but no one says anything about Cyndi Lauper). The song jangles and bops, but I’d like to see someone with a talent for writing sharp hooks in intimate situations (Ida Maria, maybe?) do the music. Come to think of it, Ida could use some decent lyrics, too.
[6]

Josh Love: The largely unmemorable melody gives off faint echoes of “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun,” but the lyrics are the attention-grabbers here, conversational and tough-minded in the vein of Kate Nash or Ida Maria. Still, I’ve got to object to the idea that appreciating Paul Simon could be an indie fan’s shameful secret (“It’s like loving Graceland, it’s not allowed to be but we know it’s everybody’s favorite”). Thanks to Vampire Weekend and all of indie’s other recent Afro-pop dabblers, is there a boomer rocker who’s more cool than Rhymin’ Simon these days?
[5]

Anthony Easton: Driving back from the lake this summer, we played Graceland over the car stereo, and everyone knew every word. Is this something I should be ashamed of?
[5]

Pete Baran: Did you know there is no Frente! on Spotify?
[7]