What does one truly expect from a new Anti-Nowhere League album? Even the band's supporters will admit that the group essentially set out its stall the very first time around, and has done little more than refine and (in the best sense of the word) recycle itself ever since. Their skill lies in the ease with which they make every new album sound as fresh as their first, with lyrics that spin from sniping to rage, and a wall of righteous noise that continues to remind you of why the world still needs bands like the League -- because, without them, a title like "Just Another Day (In Paradise)" would still be the province of the Phil Collins' of this world, and the real message behind the medium would be swamped beneath strings and cocktail dresses. The sound of the League is the sound of disaffection at the lowest end of the cultural scale, a reminder that, for all the joys and benefits of the 21st century, great swathes of society are scarcely better off than they were a-hundred-years ago -- "Piggy (The Lesson of Life)" and "Pump Action" paint that condemnation in mile-high letters, and the other great thing about the League is, they don't even pretend to offer solutions. Unless, of course, you want to take "Mission to Mars" to heart: "we've fcked up all the countries with our worthless little wars/we've fcked up all the people, made them dirty little ******/we've fcked up all religions cos it's out there in the stars/we've fcked up all this planet so let's go and fck up Mars." Dave Thompson, Rovi
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