The Klaws aren’t borin’ and rockabilly bands usually don’t write songs about panty sniffin’ and surf bands don’t really write songs with lyrics. Dig my six!
The cynical yet sentimental remarks flow effortlessly from one singer to another, as chiseled chords and so-natural-it’s-gotta-be-magic melodies spring forth.
The production’s killer, the singing’s articulate, the emotions are well-balanced, the melodrama is turned down, and the instrumental dynamics are thought out.
The subtle violence of Muse, which reminds me of the early Radiohead material that soared dizzily and plummeted sickeningly, leaving you spent and amazed.