Pitchfork

If British people had dentists, this is probably the music they'd hear as they sat in wood-paneled waiting rooms reading "Highlights." Apparently, Northern Britain is the UK's regional equivalent of Iowa. (Otherwise known as: places where tractors can be seen commuting to one-story malls; where the entire discographies of all the great 70's hippie bands can be found with laughable ease at the local Coconuts; where every year there is at least one major state gathering with a two word name like "Corn Fest" or "Soybean Fest" or "Tobacco Fest.") Hell, I imagined myself walking across the muddy field of a state fair looking for an airbrush booth as I reviewed this album. Wasn't Teenage Fanclub at one point a fuzz-happy Brit-grunge band? Oh well, chalk it up to the Mediocre- Old- Guys- Gone- Country- Rock syndrome. Hey, don't get me wrong. I've been to state fairs. I've been on a hayride. This album has its moments of jangly, sun-drenched, harvest pop pleasure, but I think I'll stick to my city life.