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  • Avatar for ctd55
    A manifest manifesto from the solons of London's bohemian squats. As it typical for radicals, they crafted a statement of purpose only after their principles have outlived their usefulness. Attentive listeners can hear the change coming, for it's a truth invariably confirmed by human experience that "We know what we're doing" is certain quickly to be refuted by a clear demonstration that the speaker does not, in fact, know what he's doing. (Those are the last words you hear your automobile careens through an intersection or your plane bellyflops onto the tarmac.) Here the music gives the lie to their feigned confidence. Tension creeps into their sound as the music careens and collapses around Green's singing: he wants to bust out some blue-eyed R&B, but his musicological and ideological commitments won't allow it. Pop sheen pokes in through his singing, but the muddy, meandering arrangement keeps blotting it out. They know how it sounds; they're just not happy about it.

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