At a time when post-punquers like The Cure or The Banshees were refining and learning the power of their quieter sides (both bands released records that year than turned the volume down and the atmosphere up) they were simply no match from this trio from Cardiff who played to taped drum machines and sang like they were waiting for the jug to boil.
I traded my cassette in for a UK vinyl import when I moved to Melbourne and it became the soundtrack to the first few months of my life there as I gradually pecked at a social life to come. The sadness, whimsy and deceptive naivete of this record made good company. It was smart, funny, heartrending and literate and if you couldn't dance to it (I wonder if anyone ever tried) you could sing along (mentally, of course, don't want to alert the neighbours).
Glenn came to the record much later which is, fittingly, why we begin with his recollection.
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