Pity Sex’s debut record is exactly the kind of limp, regrettable affair hinted at by their moniker. It’s the perfect example of first world problems writ large, all set to the kind of lo-fi guitar buzz a litany of bands perfected almost four decades ago.
There is, after all, a difference between homage and straight rip-off. As such tracks as A Satisfactory World For Reasonable People and White Hot Moon come across like the work of a Dinosaur Jr. cover band that have forgotten J Mascis’ lyrics, and substituted them with their own whiny efforts.
Elsewhere, uninspired references to Royal Trux rule the day, and the male/female vocal exchanges on Nothing Rips Through Me are so humdrum they might have been more effective if sung by one person occasionally supping on helium. Worse still, Burden You confuses the self-effacing with the self-aggrandising, turning the track into an anthem for the kind of person who posts, “if you don’t love me at my worst, you don’t deserve me at my best”, nine times on their Facebook feed.
White Hot Moon is the album pop-lovers have always imagined we musical hipsters like: a dull collection of choruses dressed up in difficulty, simply for the sake of it.
BY JOSEPH EARP
