Simple enough, really…
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[3.33]
Katherine St Asaph: It continues to confound me how these sorts of bands keep insisting on giving lead vocals to their yelpy selves and relegating those who can sing — women, usually — to choral decoration.
[4]
Alfred Soto: Nice backing vocals but they’re insufficient cushion for David Longstreth and his ambivalent relationship with pitch. The title metaphor deserves less parsing than Longstreth’s decision to relegate the women to peonage for the nth time. It’s as if they exist to confirm their ineffability or something.
[4]
Iain Mew: I can appreciate where this is going about up to the first chorus. After that how bad the singing is, the fact that it isn’t going anywhere different at all and the gap between the cleverness of the words and the emphasis placed on them gets to me too much.
[3]
Edward Okulicz: How a group can use backing vocals so intelligently and creatively in a song like this, and then be bloody-minded enough to put the most untrained, unbearable yelp on top of it is hard to grasp. I tried to appreciate this as a kind of indie rock “Whole of the Moon” but the comparison makes more sense than the words.
[3]
Anthony Easton: Reminds me why I hate The Doors and the other acid casualties of mid-70s Los Angeles.
[1]
Brad Shoup: No, going from mutant R&B to cabaret Cockney Rebel is totally the intuitive move!
[5]