This year, I’ve been mostly listening to…

It’s that time of year again. A long time since I’ve blogged but you can always count on the fact that once the end of year lists start rolling in I won’t be able to resist sticking my two pennies’ worth in. I’m making a change from previous years; after reading this excellent article by Laura Barton I’ve decided to ditch the countdown approach of old. I’m simply going to share details of the albums that have given me the most musical enjoyment over the last twelve months. Commentary will be kept to a minimum – I’ll link to a taster to see if you might be keen and if you want to know more then leave a comment and I’ll respond.

The Decemberists – The King is Dead
An unashamedly rootsy album which sees a well-timed break from the concept approach favoured of late. Each track is stripped down to its core elements of throaty, impassioned vocal accompanied by music so raw it often feels like a live album. Slick production has been eschewed on this record and it set a trend which became a theme through the finer albums this year. Meloy always sounds great but whoever came up with the idea of getting Gillian Welch on board deserves the credit for turning a good album into a great one.

Death Cab for Cutie – Codes and Keys

The first DCFC album to embrace the more electronica approach of the Postal Service but with less immediate melodies. The album still boasts some great moments of Gibbard flair for memorable hooks- the title track could be straight off the latest Arcade Fire latest record. It was an album that took me a long time to like but really hit home when I listened to it on my iPod when running; it too easily becomes audio wallpaper when left as background music. Doors Unlocked and Open is probably the standout track – indulging a slow build intro as has worked on past records. It marks a contrast to the vapid ‘You are a tourist’ which is nothing more than Gibbard by numbers and was a baffling choice of lead single. ‘Stay Young, Go Dancing’ neatly finishes off proceedings as a reminder that the crafting of wistful grin inducing pop may not have dominated this album but is a gift that has not been abandoned.

Ages and Ages – Alright You Restless

A very very retro record. Listening to it feels like peering in on a boozy how down. Expect scruffy guitars, handclaps, group singing, and an urge to reach for a bottle of the good stuff. If you like the idea of Jack White singing Creedence then this will hit the spot. They’ve been described as ‘raw choral pop’ and I can’t think of a better way to describe them.

Wilco – The Whole Love

The latest offering from Tweedy and pals opens with statement of intent; fractured, mixture of beats and Tweedy delivering an almost ethereal vocal; bit of a red herring as rest of album is uniformly warm respectfully borrowing elements of White Album and Abbey Road to deliver delightful songs (Capitol city in particular is pure Lennon/McCartney). ‘I might’ is classic Wilco – essentially the sound Spoon et al have sought to ape with union if percussion and bass to create sense of direction. Unlike many albums this year (including some on this list) it feels like a complete work, carefully crafted to leave an impression rather than a collection of barely related songs.

Beirut – The Rip Tide

A little surprised they haven’t been more heavily promoted given the recent trend of Mumford etc. No bells or whistles here; beautiful vocal delivery conveys simply crafted emotionally gripping songs. One standout element is how brass is used to add gravitas. So many bands of late have thought chucking in a tuba automatically adds weight when in fact most of the time it overpowers the song; not the case with Beirut.

Fruit Bats – Tripper

The old adage that anything associated with The Shins is worth listening to holds true with Fruit Bats. The vocal at times is akin to Jake shears. Don’t let that fool you into expecting an album of disco pop. ‘Banishment song’ could be Air, with glacial, sparse arrangements reinforcing the sense that separate elements have been carefully and deliberately arranged to produce a clean soundscape.

Dale Earnhardt Jr. Jr. – It’s a Corporate World

Finally someone brought the fun to 2011. Flavoured with more than a light touch of hot chip this album pulses with innovation and a desire to entertain. There is a terrific flair for a hook and melody throughout the album balanced with a real ability to communicate both pleasure and introspection. To top it all off it contains a quite stunning Gil Scott cover.

Dawes – Nothing is Wrong

Honest simple melodic joy. There is an earnestness about Dawes which keeps them on the acceptable side of sentimental and encourages you to connect to the lyrics. If you are expecting unpredictable, innovative soundscapes then look elsewhere, but if you are partial to a bit of Josh Rouse and/or Jackson Browne then you really should give this a listen.

The Strokes – Angles

The posturing, ‘look at me’ cool of Is This It has gone and part of me is a little sad about that. However the switch from calculated indifference to bubbling exuberance has produced a gloriously positive record which is pitched firmly in the eighties. It might not scale the heights of Room On Fire (very few albums have) but this is destined for a place in my heart. For a large part of 2011 if you wanted a great going out record – this was it.

The Black Keys – El Camino

After a lot of reflective, introspective music threatened to engulf the musical landscape in 2011 thank fuck for the Black Keys. I am a lover of The Eagles of Death Metal and didn’t feel anyone else was quite capable of their raucous, scuzzy fun – then came El Camino. An absolute belter of a record that you want to start again immediately after it has finished. It might sound like an album stitched together from various other great rock bands but when it sounds like this frankly who cares?

The King’s Will – As The Power Falls

During the late summer surreal spectacle that was Manchester United’s humiliation of Arsenal, I was introduced through a friend to a fellow United fan. Surrounded by a sea of opposition fans in the heart of Highbury a friendship was quickly forged. Views on football, politics, etc were shared and all was will until it came to the issue of music. My new acquaintance revealed he was part of an electronica poetry outfit and he would love me to listen. As articulate and interesting as he seemed, the very idea of electronica poetry had me expecting a hellish cacophony of pretension which I would have to pretend to tolerate in a bid to appease my friend. Listen to the song below, chuckle to yourself at what a fool I was to doubt it, and then go listen to the rest King’s Will. Sometimes music is fun, but on a rare occasion music becomes necessary. This is the latter.

If you like and want to know more get in touch with the creator: @okwonga

Laura Marling – A Creature I Don’t Know

The heavenly Miss Marling seems to have taken on a more experimental approach and it works magnificently. Clearly overflowing with songs so rightly putting them out there (Ryan Adams style). This is admittedly less cohesive than her previous albums, yet triumphs as a collection of dazzling independent songs. Capable of epic and gentle – often in same song like on the captivating Don’t ask me why.

Radical Face – The Family Tree: The Roots

An album packed with deceptively intricate arrangements bringing together reflective lyrics and variety of instruments. At times the Bright Eyes influence is clear but I would not be surprised to find Elliot Smith cited as an influence. Like Beirut they seem perfectly pitched for recent trends and in my view are superior to some of the ‘new folk’ groups already enjoying considerable success.

Adele – 21

Yes I know, this makes me deeply uncool. How can I select something that has sold loads of records, been ruthlessly promoted and provided the first dances for countless doomed marriages. Yet when you ignore all that, you’re left with a woman with a phenomenal voice, connecting with and conveying the emotion of some quite brilliant songwriting. I don’t believe commercial success should make you unworthy of critical acclaim so this is mine.

Yuck – Yuck

Oh God, Yuck are like, so trying to be the Smashing Pumpkins… I’ve heard this and largely agree with it. However I do think some people get bizarrely hung up on influences – they aren’t ‘ripping off’ Corgan and co, rather are producing some of the finest reverb soaked music around in a style not a million miles away from the early 90s. I can’t see a problem with it myself and have spent many an enjoyable run/cycle/drive relishing every track which could easily be a single in its own right.

Ryan Adams – Ashes & Fire

By his standards Adams had been away for an unforgiveable length of time with fears that he might never be able to play again. Thankfully his creativity never left him and when the opportunity arose to get back in the studio the results are astonishing. It is far from a secret that I have long been an admirer yet if I’m honest the last two albums with The Cardinals were little more than decent. Ashes & Fire couldn’t be more different – inspired by Laura Marling, Adams rediscovered the fire to prove he is the finest song-writer of his (or arguably any) generation and the result is an utter masterpiece.

>Desert Island Discs

>A discussion which has brought an uncharacteristically interesting debate in middle class households throughout Britain has been – ‘What would be your Desert Island Discs?’ Well having finally heeded the call the good people at Radio 4 have given me the chance to make my choices official. Before you rise up in outrage that a nobody such as myself has been given such an honour you best realise that anybody can! Go here to post your own. For those unfamiliar with the format this is the BBC explanation:

” The format is simple – a guest is invited to choose eight discs, a book and a luxury to take with them as they’re castaway on a mythical desert island.  They’re given the complete works of Shakespeare and the Bible.  During the interview they explain their choices and discuss key moments in their lives, people and events that have influenced and inspired them and brought them to where they are today.”

>What were you thinking?

>This week’s blog might not excite and delight you as much as my usual dazzling array of tantalising tunes. My pre-Mancunian derby nerves has brought out the negative in me so I’m choosing five tracks I loathe by artists I love. I could of course make this easy and choose middling bands who I can take or leave, or dip into the catalogue or once great bands on the slide (yes I mean you Rivers Cuomo). Each track is by an artist released at the peak of their powers which contrasts sharply with the rest of their brilliance.

>Christmas, Leeks and Sheep

>

I’m afraid the White Stripes obituary has sapped my typing strength so I’m not offering a lengthy album review but highly recommend the new Decemberists album. They have made the wise move of getting the wonderful Gillian Welch on board and her vocal compliments Meloy perfectly to create a country sound which reminds me of Heartbreaker (unsurprisingly given the Welch connection) and Cassadega. There is possibly a hint of REM too – if not in the style of music but Meloy’s vocal does have a touch of Stipe in places.

>Mr Pattison goes to London

>The story of sir staying out on a school night:

A fairly surreal spectacle unfolded on Monday morning as a frozen man paced around the foot of Big Ben singing manically to himself. Fear not, I have not entered that place but was manfully battling bracing cold to round up shuffling sixth formers ahead of an A level politics conference. Attempts to distract myself from the cold brought mixed results; 1) spending the best part of two quid on a flavourless tea at Cafe Nero was an error although is did Quantum Leap style view of what my life could have been had I become a commuter, 2) Jiggling on the spot with hands firmly tucked into pockets in between greeting youngsters is the kind of behaviour that raises suspicions that a man in my profession can ill afford, but 3) Listening to every single song by The National on my ipod managed to successfully transport my thoughts away from the numbness overwhelming my limbs and onto the exciting fact I was seeing the premier purveyors of North American indie that very night.

Fast forward through a stimulating conference and a delightful couple of hours devouring the brilliant Jonathon Wilson’s ‘Inverting the Pyramid’ (essential reading on the history of tactics for the football geek) and I was enjoying the atmosphere at Brixton academy alongside my fellow mustachioed chum and blogger Mr Craig Armer (the taches were for charity for those losing respect for me). As it happens sporting a ridiculous middle-aged 80s business tache seems to be the norm in ‘trendy London’ anyway as people who live in the capital appear unable to resist the overwhelming desire to dress as a Shoreditch Dickhead.

The support was a band I had never heard of but Craig was very keen to see. As with most things in life; Craig was annoyingly one step ahead of me in coolness as what followed was comfortably one of the better support bands I have seen. Full credit to The National who resisted the usual label urge to promote some raw label mates and instead chose a band with three albums behind them who have yet to make waves over this side of the Atlantic. Menomena made an immediate impression with the full band lined up on the stage. No single member was given special prominence and the reason for this became clear – Karl Marx would adore this band – everyone plays their part. Every member takes on vocal duties at some point boasting an exciting range of styles from a Kings of Leon howl to a wistful tone reminiscent of Guy Garvey (Elbow). The eclectic nature doesn’t stop there as the whole gamut of instruments are on show including saxophone and maracas as drum sticks. This could very easily descend into a muso-friendly smugfest yet each quirk is integral to the song and the band rightly resist the urge to show off. In my experience bands with vast instrumental talent often fall into proggy noodling much to the apparent delight of their worshippers, yet Menomena adopt a clean, almost clinical approach which delivers flair through the variety of components as opposed to a showy stage presence. As commendable as this might sound it would all be wholly redundant if the music was rubbish but the opposite was true. The highlight of this whole night for me was actually discovering Menomena and spotify has been well used as I greedily imbibe all they have to offer. Enjoy the videos below and I urge you to investigate this band.

The mixture of anticipation and impatience before a band come on is one of life’s most frustrating experiences. Thankfully The National didn’t force us to wait too long after the support and what followed was a quite brilliant performance. I’m not going to indulge in a detailed post-match analysis – I’m sure you will be able to find hundreds of gig reviews which will tell you all you need to know about the band’s unexpectedly strong stage presence. Personally I was far more impressed than I expected – as stated earlier on this blog I have grown to really love the band but whereas some bands on record demand to be seen live I have never felt that about The National. The way that I was invited by Craig rather than pursue the tickets myself is testament to that fact. As things turned out the band were far more exciting live than presumed and the songs possessed more energy, passion and at times outright hostility than on record. The perfect example being the primal cry of the chorus on Squalor Victoria. Brixton Academy is perhaps London’s finest venue for atmosphere and there was a tremendous sense that the people in the room would each be able to share a story related to how and why they fell in love with the band. I felt a triumphant sense of collective joy as England was sung with verve and defiance. The sense of community was further emboldened by Berninger’s quite insane wander through the whole crowd whilst singing Mr November. My heart went out to the poor roadie/security bloke who’s job was to follow him and hold up the implausibly long microphone lead. It was a hugely impressive performance, neatly capped off with an acapella performance of Vanderly Crybaby Geeks at the end of the encore.

By the time of the encore I was making ready for my dash to the door as the minutes ticked by ahead of my train home. Craig and I embarked on an exciting mission through the streets of London, guided by an i-phone sat nav which appeared to be on satellite delay a few dead ends were negotiated and the heart was racing. Thankfully by demonstrating the street smarts and courage that only Men of Kendal can conjure we made it to the station on time and the night had ended in triumph.

A good music week was further enriched by sneakily having a listen to the new release III/IV from Ryan Adams- a double album of previously unreleased stuff with The Cardinals which is as fantastic as expected. One thing I would say though is I am kind of glad they have parted ways as I feel far more connection with his solo work. Further to this delight my spiritual guide in the ways of music Ben passed on a fantastic collection from Bon Iver’s label Jagjaguwar which neatly showcased a lot of artists I was previously unaware of but warrant further investigation.

>Thoughtful sadness

So without boring you with the details I have had a bit of a crappy run of luck over the last couple of weeks culminating in being laid low with a virus today. Dark times, which in turn leads me on to thinking about that type of song which feeds into this mindset. I confess it to be one of my favourite themes so the five songs are a selection I recommend rather than hailing them as the greatest of their kind;

Melancholy

Wedding Bells by Hank Williams
As somebody younger and cooler than me would say, let’s take it old school (actually they would probably drop the apostrophe but I can’t bring myself to commit grammatical larceny). This was a track that I only found a couple of years back as I began to explore the roots of country and it stands out in the way Williams expresses the utter devastation of realising something you felt would happen is never going to. The contrast between the jubilation of the wedding guests and the emptiness of the defeated suitor is stark. The saddest aspect is how the fight has completely left the protagonist who can only lament what might have been.

I planned a little cottage in the valley
I even bought a little band of gold
I thought some day I’d place it on your finger
But now the future looks so dark and cold

The issue of lost love is a well covered topic and it would be remiss of me not to mention ‘She’s out of my life’ which I consider to be Michael Jackson’s most underrated song.

River Man by Nick Drake
Melancholy can be communicated in several different ways. Hank Williams shows us the most common and direct route – narrative. A more difficult yet no less effective method is to create the atmosphere of melancholy through the music and vocal delivery. Drake is the master of this and I could have chosen several other of his tracks but Riverman stood out for me. It appears to be a sad reality that artists capable of producing the finest melancholy must be afflicted by mental torment and Drake was no exception to this rule. Eliot Smith and Jeff Buckley are other wonderful, creative talents who were unable to reconcile their problems. For examples of their brilliance click their names.

Golden Age by Beck
I simply had to include something from the outstanding Sea Change album from 2002. It is common when an artist takes a dramatic change from what they have been known for – in Beck’s case innovative, sample laden, pop-funk – for the results to be less than impressive. Sea Change saw Beck adopt a far more simplistic, stripped down approach as he wrote an entire album about the collapse of his relationship with a long-term girlfriend. Golden Age opens the album and I feel beautifully articulates that borderline moment where you hope the worst might be behind you. It is far from an optimistic song as uncertainty of the future permeates the lyrics.

It’s a treacherous road
With a desolated view
There’s distant lights
But here they’re far and few

Yet the acknowledgement that a dark time has been endured suggests that things might just be looking up.

Not the Girl you think you are by Crowded House
‘Weather with you’ is both a great song and a curse. Great because it is undoubtedly a wonderful pop song that is loved by millions. Curse because it seems to have led millions more to dismiss Crowded House as ‘fun and quirky.’ It might make me sound like Alan Partridge but I genuinely consider Neil Finn to be one of the greatest song-writers of the last thirteen years and this song is a great example of that. The lyrics at first may appear positive yet the dark heart of this song is the dream boyfriend is a fiction to cover up the girl’s feeling of inadequacy. My Dad has always said this sounds like a great lost Lennon and McCartney song and I’m inclined to agree.

Shadowlands by Ryan Adams
This won’t come as any surprise and I will try and set aside the hero worship and focus on the song in question. It comes from the album ‘Love is Hell’ which as you might guess is a collection of songs very firmly in the melancholy category. There are several I could have chosen from this album and in fact many of Ryan’s others but this has a highly personal resonance for me. At the risk of sounding like a therapy session this song essentially soundtracked a very difficult time for my family. In the Summer of 2004 we lost my Uncle. I was not yet 21 and found the whole experience hugely difficult never having gone through bereavement before. I listened to the album a hell of a lot and this song in particular. As a way to try and deal with it as much as anything I decided to accompany my Dad down to the South to help sort out the funeral arrangements. We have a shared love of Ryan so it was natural that it wasn’t long into the journey down that Love is Hell was on the stereo. It was then my Dad revealed that when at the hospital waiting for the inevitable to be confirmed he sat in the car park, in the pissing down rain, and listened to Shadowlands. It seemed oddly fitting that when dealing with such a loss both Dad and I turned to the same song. As fate should have it, we saw Ryan later that year perform in Manchester and I don’t need to tell you the opening track. Suffice to say that the Pattison men had something in both their eyes for a few minutes that night. Apologies if a twee little story like that is pretty self indulgent but I guess writing a blog means I’m already guilty of that charge of intellectual vanity. Anyway, enjoy and absolutely timeless song.

>Alcohol provokes debate shocker

>What a tremendous weekend – full to the brim it featured a wedding, a christening and barbecue. An undoubted highlight was the discussion in Leeds on Saturday night centred on choosing three songs that could be considered the best of the decade 2000-2010. Now being the type who enjoys such things I made a two CD selection reflecting the best of the decade at the turn of the year so I felt well equipped yet there is no denying that such a decision is tough. It was interesting that almost immediately two friends agreed on one inclusion. B.O.B. by Outkast is a choice that is hard to disagree with – it stills sounds as fresh and important today as on its release. It is sometimes easy to forget that Outkast have not always existed in the mainstream and this magnificent track shared an album with their major cross-over success Ms Jackson. Bob has a relentless urgency which in many ways was an apt dawn to a new age.

Of course it would be entirely remiss of me not to share my own thoughts on such a ‘hot topic.’ The chat took place two days ago now and I’ve had time to reflect but I confess to in no way having my choices set in stone. I fully expect to return to this blog in the future filled with rage at my decision – in some ways the perfect circle.

Anyway here goes:

Sigur Ros – Hoppipola

‘Jumping into Puddles’ as it is known in Iceland is perhaps the most offensively over-exposed piece of music in the last ten years. Only Romeo and Juliet’s balcony scene can compete. Lazy television directors the world over have taken great pleasure in using it as the backing to many a tedious montage. Most disgracefully I remember it being used to commemorate Scottish Gargoyle Andy Murray edging past some poor Slovak in an early round of Wimbledon. If ever a piece of music did not reflect the context of its use it was there. The reason? This piece of music is stunningly beautiful. I will make my peace with those employed in the visual arts by applauding the use for the BBC Planet Earth series as in that case it really did tie in superbly with the subject matter it was used to promote. I’ve said on here before of my belief that music is about emotion and Hoppipola is a stunningly upliting work of art that is genuinely life affirming. I probably should be ashamed to say I purposefully chose to have it on my ipod when I watched the sun rise over Colca Canyon in Peru but I’m not. It is music for the soul. An area of music I gain a lot of pleasure from without having any level of knowledge about is Classical Music and Sigur Ros appear to have managed to create a moving, theatrical piece which had it been composed by Verdi or Puccini would be considered up there amongst their finest work. An honourable mention while I’m at it to Arcade Fire who I feel tread a simiar path and are very unfortunate not to make this list.

Ryan Adams – Elizabeth, You were born to play this part.

Yes I know, I’m predictable. The inclusion of a Ryan track was a given but the choice might be a little more surprising. The album 29 it comes from was not the receipient of heavy critical acclaim – in fact in some quarters it was given something of a slating. Quite incredible when you consider that it contains for my money, the finest love song of the last ten years. Elizabeth certainly isn’t a conventional tale of love; the narrator does not live happy ever after, in fact he appears to live a tortured existent frozen in a state of utter love that cannot be reciprocated. The feeling of losing someone is hard enough when you still feel so deeply for them, but to know in your heart that it is irreversible is simply interminable. The song to me is about heartbreak and lost love but this doesn’t necessarily mean love between two adults. Adams himself has suggested the song was inspired by close friends losing their baby. A dark, painful experience articulated described by Ben Folds in the astonishingly personal Brick . Adams communicates this hugely complex emotion so effectively I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to feeling a bit tearful during more than one listen. Blue Sky blues from the same album and Shadowlands have a similar impact but it is the simplicity of Elizabeth which sets it apart. The verse is emotion laid bare, the words are not particularly clever but are searingly honest. The chorus is pure heartbreak:

Wherever you are, I hope you’re happy now

I’m caught in a dream and I can’t get out

I’m caught in an endless dream

And I’m not strong enough to let you go

It takes you to the brink and then offers an enchanting lilting outro. My words simply don’t do it justice. Genius.
 
Now for a third and final choice. There are several magnificent songs that spring to mind that; Transatlanticism by DCFC takes some beating, Landlocked Blues is Conor Oberst’s finest moment and Rise up with Fists by Jenny Lewis is a glorious impassioned rail against hypocrisy. However I can’t help feel I’m in danger of representing a whole decade as a melancholic struggle of self-doubt when in fact it was the most fun I’ve ever had! So with that in mind I’ll leave this blog with a song that is pure pleasure. The reaction of a good friend’s normally restrained brother was testament to the power of music to turn a composed, grown man back into a 4 year old boy on a bouncy castle.
 
Here’s the performance in question. Enjoy.

If you don’t disagree in some way you are downright strange so please leave a comment and let me know your views.

>A fitting start

>Okay cards on the table, Ryan Adams is a God to me. As a result I felt slightly guilty when Houses on the Hill came up on the ipod as it is from an album by none other than Ryan. However rather than his solo work which I listen to more than any other it comes from Strangers Almanac by Whiskeytown – his now defunct band who became alt-country royalty.

I really haven’t listened to this in full more than once before and the immediate thing that strikes me is how crisp the production is. There could certainly be an argument that it is overproduced as the harmonies, violin and acoustic picking all sound clean as a whistle. I very much doubt this holds up as a criticism but it is a marked contrast to the at times rugged and highly personal feel of Adams’ solo output. It’s interesting to note that the lead producer was Jim Scott who is most closely associated with Wilco and has also worked with Crowded House, Tom Petty and Radiohead. This is a man with formidable credentials and experience of producing large bands which perhaps is an explanation for the polished end product. These songs sound perfect for middle of the road US radio stations in the Mid-West. Inn Town is a frankly sedate opening which is forgotten within moments of a new song beginning. Not that things become noticeably remarkable until 16 Days appears four tracks in. A gorgeous story telling song which hints at what was to follow in Adams’ solo career – there is a hint of Springsteen here although the writing is very basic by comparison. The improvement continues as Everything I Do follows straight away. This is the stand-out track for me with Wilco style understated instrumentation supporting a raw, open-hearted vocal delivery from Adams. The lyrics encapsulate the frustration of a young girl growing up – hardly what you’d expect from a band of twenty something blokes. I still can’t help but feel an opportunity is missed to explore the emotional state as room seems to be made to allow for a needless bit of guitar noodling but I guess being in a band is about compromise. The hammond organ plays a key role in this song. Then I’m afraid the album goes into drift – Houses on the Hill are plodding at best, Turn Around is a half-hearted attempt at The Cure, and the other tracks fail to catch fire. Interest picks up again with Avenues which is a short but poignant lament of a man who can’t accept his love has moved on. The album closer Not Home Anymore is a sense of what could have been as it brims with brooding menace of a relationship gone bad. It is a real shame that it is one of only three or four songs where the band as a whole gel together. There are too many fillers here which so often are the product of compromise between members. It is no surprise that touring this album saw numerous line-up changes in no small part as a result of Adams’ volatile character. I guess some people just aren’t meant to be part of a team.

Enjoyable enough but too often forgettable given the talent on show.

5/10

16 days live
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