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Just when you think one song is about to go somewhere, it ends. When you are really feeling the appeal of the band hitting home, you are then cut out of the loop and sent elsewhere. Perhaps it was the aim this time around to satirize the nature of pop music by giving the fans only bits and pieces of new material. I don't need to be preached at by this act, I don't need to drearily look over at my CD player and notice that though it may feel like hours have passed I'm not even halfway through the album and I most certainly do not need to be given the finger by a band I've spent years and years following. Dischordant beats crumble into oddly out of sync words with obviously calculated hooks thrown over them, all of which appear at distinctly inopportune times. Again, nothing is given time to develop it's just simply discarded once the aim has been achieved. Electronic pop for the intellectually deprived who wish to appear discerning is the best description I can give this one. If this were the last album Snog were planning on doing I'd appreciate it, hell, I'd revel in it. But it isn't. And although it's not the final album from them, this is the last one I'm bothering with. PETER MARKS Ad:
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